Learning To Breathe
by IWantYouInMyLife
Summary: Paul liked to think he had his life figured out. He knew how his days would go, with very few notable changes. His schedule would only change when a leech entered their lands, and Paul liked it. Routine worked for him, and he allowed no one to disturb it. So how did he ended up teaching Isabella Swan how to ride a motorcycle?
1. All His Needs

**Author's Note: So, I might be losing control. Maybe. I try to finish the stories I already have going on, but all I can seem to type the minute I sit in front of my computer are new chapters to original stories. What can I say? It's hard, man.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the vampires nor the wolves, alright? I'm just a writer trying to have some fun.**

* * *

"Why did you bring her here?" He snarled at Jake, furious beyond reason. How dare Jacob behave like he was above the tribal laws? How dare he do it for the leech girl?

For some reason, seeing Jake near the girl made his body tremble in anger. Paul felt his whole body shivering the closer he got to the pair of them. He didn't want to look at her; he rathered ignore her presence in his land altogether. How dare she date the fucking leech, love the disgusting creature, and then, as soon as he dumped her sorry ass, come crawling for Jacob — the next big, dangerous beast in tow.

"I didn't!" Jake yelled, "She came here on her own."

"Both of you calm down," Sam demanded, probably seeing the situation was quickly getting out of control.

But Paul wasn't listening, not really. Usually, he was quick to anger, but that day was like nothing he had ever felt before. His already hot temperature was rising quickly to accommodate the shift that was about to happen in a few seconds — Paul could sense it coming. And, even though Sam — his alpha — was telling him to calm down, he kept snapping a Jake.

It all exploded the minute he moved to place his body in front of the Swan girl. Protecting her. Protecting her from him. His wolf exploded instantaneously, bursting through his clothes with ease, as he jumped to attack Jacob. The youngest member of their pack shifted seconds later, meeting him halfway through his jump and pushing him away from the body he was protecting.

 _'You won't touch her,'_ Black said, trying to bite his torso.

For some reason, it sounded more like a curse than a threat.

* * *

Standing in front of his alpha's house, Paul tried to calm himself down enough to enter the place. The gash on his shoulder was nearly healed by now, and he felt no pain whatsoever coming from it. Nevertheless, he couldn't seem to move his body forward.

Jacob should've never been able to hurt him so easily when Paul was clearly the best fighter of the pack. Their newest member was still a pup, uncontrolled and wild. Paul should've won without effort. However, contrary to all odds, there he stood, with Jake's teeth marking his skin while the kid had shifted unblemished.

What was wrong with him? His behavior was puzzling even to himself. Although he admitted to being the hotheaded of the pack, the scorching ire pulsing inside his body was new — strange, even.

Paul liked to think he had his life figured out.

He knew how his days would go, with very few notable changes. Patrol, eat, sleep, work, shower, eat, work, patrol, eat, sex, sleep... No matter the order, that was the core essence of it. His schedule would only change when a leech entered their lands, and Paul liked it. Routine worked for him, and he allowed no one to disturb it.

So, why was he standing in front of Emily's house, too angry to go inside?

Paul's whole body was straining under the overflow of emotions he felt at that moment, and it was all because of her. The leech lover. The girl who knew too much and yet was oblivious to the world surrounding her.

Paul hated her.

He hated that she jumped into bed with a nasty vampire with no second thoughts, leaving them to deal with the consequences. He hated that Jacob was madly in love with her while she pretended to be clueless. He hated that she dared to demand answers from Sam like she had some sort of right over Jacob's life. But, most of all, he hated that she was the cause of all these emotions inside of him.

She was a bitch, and Paul had no patience for bitches.

He could hear her voice — her fucking concerned voice — asking Jacob how he was and laughing, relieved, when he assured he didn't have a scratch.

Paul felt his hands trembling — a warning sign if there was ever one.

He clenched his fists, allowing his face to morph into a dark scowl.

"Shit," He murmured, knowing he was losing it.

The emotions were just too strong and conflicting. Paul wanted to run away from the house and storm inside at the same time, and it was tearing his control apart.

"Paul, get in here," Sam ordered softly from the kitchen, knowing he would hear. His alpha was completely unaware of his emotions right now, but an order couldn't be ignored.

His feet carried him forward, unstoppable. His body still trembling and his heart pounding loudly in his ears, although he had no idea why.

He needed something from that kitchen. Desperately. But what?

Paul opened the door, and the conversation halted as the heads all turned to stare at him.

"Paul!" Sam's voice was full of reproaching for his uncontrolled anger, ignoring that he was the one who ordered Paul to come inside.

But he didn't want to hear it. His wolf was howling inside, demanding something.

"Get your shit together, man," Black demanded, moving to stand in front of the leech-lover. Again. A growl erupted deep from his chest as it had never before.

The sound surprised everyone, but no one more than himself.

Little Swan gasped and tripped, sliding her eyes up as she did it and, suddenly, Paul felt like tripping and falling, too. The ground shook beneath his feet, and the earth spun too fast. All the strings connecting Paul to his life ceased to be, and all that kept him grounded was the girl in front of him. The air was clogging up his throat, and his eyes were widening.

Suddenly, many things that Paul had never understood became reasonable to him. All his perspective in life was being altered by the need to be everything this tiny human in front of him needed. His mind was already going through the rapidly growing list of all that was required to make an eighteen-years-old girl happy. His emotions were all over the place.

Isabella Swan had the power to destroy him, and she wasn't even aware of it. She held, in her tiny, perfect body, all his needs.

Protect. Love. Mate. The commands ran through his mind like a flash.

There was no other way to say it; it burned. Her widening eyes pierced through his hardened layers, leaving Paul feeling more exposed than ever before in his life.

Jacob was growling in the background, undoubtedly understanding what was happening, but Paul couldn't bring himself to care. He needed her. He stepped closer; his whole body was begging for body contact, but she stepped back, and that's when he noticed. She was afraid of him; he was scaring her. The knowledge sent a different kind of burn rushing through his body. So, for the first time of many to inevitably follow, Paul put her needs above his own. He turned and ran out of the door; the turn overcoming him before he even got to the trees.


	2. Desires

**Author's Note: I'm very excited about this story, honestly. I've read so many fanfics about Paul that it has made me anxious to create my own version of him — one which I hope features a more complex individual than just an angry, hotheaded wolf. Anyway, I hope y'all like him just as much as I do.**

 **A bit of a short chapter, but it just felt right to end it there. The next ones will be bigger.**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, I'm merely a player. Don't sue me.**

* * *

His paws hit the ground in a rhythmic motion, carrying him somewhere he still hadn't decided. He just knew he needed to get away to find some peace and think about what had just happened. Paul was thankful none of his pack mates were currently patrolling, so he had his mind all to himself for once. Perhaps Sam realized he wouldn't be in any condition to explain what he had experienced just yet.

It was the strangest feeling Paul had ever felt in his life. His thoughts were all over the place, making it difficult for him to even decipher what most of them were about. It was almost as if his body and mind were preparing and adjusting to the change of having an imprint. It tingled in the most awkward way possible, which made Paul feel distinctively weird.

His life — his carefully constructed life — where all things had purpose and reason, was about to become the Isabella Swan's controlled chaos. The thoughts were already popping into his head; the ideas were already forming. It wasn't as though he had a choice anymore. Much like becoming a wolf at sixteen and killing vampires who crossed his way, the imprinting was just another fated aspect of his life Paul couldn't hope to control.

The pull was settled around his middle, telling him the exact direction he would have to follow if he wanted to go see his mate. Paul had seen Sam and Emily, Jared and Kim… he knew exactly what awaited him in his future. He had first met Jared when he was a dumb kid with no friends; he grew up with the fucker. Better than anyone else he had seen how much Jared had changed after he saw Kim for the first time. The devotion, the need to be anything she could ever need, the constant worry, the possessiveness, the love — Paul saw it all.

He knew what it meant. However, no matter how much he tried to remember his disgust with the idea of being tied to a single person for the rest of his life, he couldn't resent the bond or her. His whole body rejected the thoughts of negative feelings about its mate.

He remembered all the times Jacob thought about her, suddenly eager to revisit the visions that caused him so much anger before. He could picture them quite vividly, thankfully. She was hurting, Paul knew. Bella hadn't gotten over the break up with the leach, the one she believed to be the man for her. Every single cell in Paul's body rejected the idea that Bella belonged with the bloodsucker — it couldn't be true if the fates bonded her to him in the way it had.

The feelings inside him were, however, confusing as hell. The imprinting made him feel protective and caring, but it didn't establish which kind of relationship they should have. That decision was entirely in Bella's hand, even if she had no clue.

For now, Paul wanted only to find her and soothe his worries about her safety. With the redheaded leech running around the reservation it wasn't safe for her to walk around La Push, even if Jacob was with her. He was too young, too new to being a wolf still. He wouldn't be able to keep her safe if it came down to it. And it didn't matter anyhow, Paul was the who should meet all the needs Bella could ever have, not anybody else — it shouldn't be Jacob's duty to make sure she was safe, it was his.

All Paul could think about was Bella. The image of her was burned in his mind, etched into his brain in a way that he knew would never fade. Even if he had only glanced at her for a few minutes he could recall every single one of her features in perfect detail. He could remember the way her wavy brown hair fell around her face in perfect contrast to her milky white complexion. He could picture her small nose and those pink lips — bruised from constant bitting, he guessed. But, most of all, Paul could, without any problem, vividly remember her chocolate eyes, sparkling in surprise and a hint of fear.

It wasn't the way she should ever look at him. Paul wanted nothing more than to sate every possible need she could ever have. He needed to comfort her and protect her in such a perfect way that she would never feel afraid or in danger ever again. It was nagging command Paul felt settling in his head, prompting him to go back and make sure she didn't need anything.

However, at the same time, Paul felt a rightness in his chest that allowed him to know he was doing the correct choice. No matter how much he wanted to turn around to wrap her around his chest where she would be the safest, it was clear that he had to take a moment for himself to sort his thoughts out before he approached her again.

For the time being, it was enough to know that she was with his packmates. They would protect her with their lives if it came to it. As an imprint, her safety was paramount to all others.

So Paul ran, knowing he needed to prepare himself to be whatever Isabella Swan desired.

* * *

When he returned to Sam's house, Paul felt her absence even before he opened the door. Bella was no longer on the reservation, he could tell.

As soon as he walked into the kitchen he was greeted by the sight of his incredulous brothers.

"Where is she?" he asked, the words coming out of his mouth before he could even process them or consciously decide to speak 'em. Paul needed to assure she was safe, that's how it was.

"She went home, Paul," his Alpha answered straight away, probably knowing how difficult it would be for him to focus on anything other than her until he was certain she wasn't in danger. "Jared followed her. He'll stay there until the end of his shift."

The pressure on his chest eased a little the second Sam mentioned Jared's name. Out of anyone in the pack, he was the one Paul felt most connected to. Jared was his brother; he would protect his mate with his life if it came to it.

"Fuck you, Paul," Jake said, glaring at him from his seat in the table.

Surprising himself and all those present in the room, he didn't explode at that. On the contrary, he felt a deep compassion for his packmate's sorrow. To lose Bella the way he had must hurt something fierce.

"I'm sorry," Paul said, leaning against the wall and not moving any further into the kitchen. "You know I had absolutely no choice in this."

"What?" Quil questioned, incredulous. "Did you just fucking apologize? Man, this day keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"You tell me," Embry agreed, nodding his head.

"I don't care for your freaking apology, Paul. Stay the hell away from Bella, do you hear me? She doesn't need this right now," Jake carried on, crossing his arm and frowning deeply.

"Jake," Sam said before Paul could correct his statement. "You know that's not possible. We understand that this situation isn't ideal, but you have to get used to the idea that Paul will always be in picture whenever she is concerned. The bond will allow nothing else."

The flash of pain on Jacob's face was unmissable, and it did make Paul flinch internally. He wanted to be able to say that he would change things if he could, but it would only be a huge lie. No single cell in his body wanted to give Isabella up.

"I don't think I can not love her," he confessed, his previous anger leaving him all at once, as he sagged on his chair. "She is just..."

"It will take ti-," Emily began to say, but Paul interrupted, needing to clear things out.

"No one said you had to stop loving her," he pointed out, knowing his next words would surprise everybody. "I certainly won't stand in your way."

Sam's head snapped up in a second, piercing him with a confused stare. Jake just looked shocked.

"Dude, are you sure you imprinted?" Embry asked.

Quil smiled a little at his confession, though. Probably understanding where he was coming from.

"You all know how this works, I'll be whatever she needs me to be," Paul said. "As of right now I feel no romantic feelings for her whatsoever. It's rather likely that she is in need of a friend rather than a boyfriend, so that's how I feel."

He looked at the window before confessing the next part.

"I just want her to be happy. If she wants to be with you, Jake, then that's what you should do. I'll help you in every way I can."

* * *

 **AN2: Don't forget to leave a review! It's lovely to hear what y'all think about the story.**


	3. Dangerous Experiments

**Author's Note: Welcome back to another chapter of this insane story that will not — will not — get off my back. Lately, all I've been doing is writing, I swear. If I stop posting new chapters please know that this means I've finally got buried under all my papers, so call an ambulance for me, alright?**

 **Anyway, thank you for all those who favorited, followed or reviewed the first chapters.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. Like, nothing. Don't send me to jail.**

* * *

It was torture.

Hearing her broken whimpers and choked cries were bad enough — especially when he could do nothing about it. Paul felt useless hearing his imprint trashing around in her bad, as the nightmares consumed her night away. But worse than that, what made the hours stretch impossibly long and caused his stress levels to peak, was the name crossing her lips ever so often as she cried out.

Why did she have to speak as she slept? It wasn't normal. Paul wished she did anything other than cry for the leech in her sleep while sounding afraid and needy at the same time.

He needed to leave, to vent before he broke into her house and woke her up forcefully.

Thankfully, before he could reach an unmanageable state, she woke up, jumping from her bed and moving to make breakfast. It was a blessing, for it also meant his patrol was coming to an end.

And even though his instincts craved the proximity — and leaving her meant constantly thinking about her and what she could be doing — Paul needed his fix, otherwise he would snap. He had already formed a track on the floor beneath his paws, as he paced angrily around a tree. He needed to leave.

When he heard the approaching noise of Quil's trot, Paul breathed in anticipation, already picturing his path after he left his place in front of the house of his soulmate.

He stayed only long enough to demand Quil's uttermost attention to his surroundings before he rushed towards La Push, blazing through the forest as he pushed his body as fast as it would go.

He finally saw the house — his destination. It was there — as if it was waiting for him. The back door would be unlocked, as it always was.

Carrying a key around was a hassle very few of them bothered with, and, as werewolves, they didn't exactly have nine-to-five jobs, which meant they couldn't rely on someone to open the door for them at three in the fucking morning. So they left the doors open — it was easier. It wasn't as if they were afraid of criminals, anyway.

With the anger still pulsing through his body, Paul needed some minutes to control himself enough to shift back to his human body. He breathed through his nose as he pushed his shorts up his legs, trying to calm himself enough to enter the house. It wouldn't do to break anything inside it.

He pushed the door open and ran up the stairs, entering the second room on the left. Lying diagonally on the bed was the person Paul had gone to see. Checking that there weren't any other heartbeats around the house, Paul allowed the door to slam behind him.

The person jumped out of the bed and turned to face him, still waking up and processing the scene before them.

"Wait for me outside, I need the bathroom first." The husky demand came, after a long pause.

Paul nodded in agreement, before stepping out of the room and going to the forest behind the house. He took his shorts off, tying them carefully to his leg. Too many times had he forgotten to take them off. There was only so many times a guy could go to the store to pick up piles of shorts before it became weird — and Paul had, undoubtedly, passed that point a long time ago.

When the person arrived, equally as naked, Paul felt the rush of adrenaline pumping. It was so close now; he could feel it coming.

"You're gonna have to throw the first punch today, I was having a hella good dream." The person grumbled another demand.

"That's ok," Paul admitted, too eager to pretend to be concerned about the order.

He closed his fist and punched the guy in the stomach, feeling the muscles contracting under his hand as he did so. A hiss of pain passed the guys lips, which did surprise him. Usually, his partner wasn't so quick to complain, but perhaps Paul had used more strength than normal. The force of the imprint was throwing him off his already quite shaky balance.

After that, the shift came easily to both of them. Paul bit the flesh in front of him, felling the anger burning inside as he did so.

He needed that, craved the fight as much as he did his next breath.

He knew his pack brothers waited for the day he would discover a more healthy and constructive way to channel his anger, but Paul knew better than to wish for such an illusory fix — a whole life of violence and destructive behavior wasn't going to change just because a bunch of well-meaning werewolves wished so. He just needed to channel it to the least harmful thing he could, and that's where that fight came into place. It was a remedy, a quick fix.

Paul needed it and was happy to have someone in his life who understood it.

 _'Getting sentimental with me, you fucker,'_ Jared teased, growling inside his mind as they rolled around in the grass trying to get the upper hand on each other.

 _'Shut up,'_ Paul cursed, once more wishing for that ridiculous bond to stop displaying his private thoughts to all his pack brothers. It was an annoyance to the arguably good package of being a wolf.

 _'Good package?_ _Only when you're not pms'ing like this,'_ his brother teased again as he got a good bite on Paul's side. _'I was dreaming about Kim, you know?'_

 _'Nice ass,'_ he mocked as Jared pictured the dream he had interrupted. He only said it to provoke Jared, and they both knew it.

With how much they were around each other — as human or as a wolf — Paul had seen Kim in every angle and shape known to man, and it had never done anything for him. Not only was she the opposite of his type, but she was Jared's imprint, which meant her image was always colored by a family aura that prevented any disturbing thoughts on his part.

 _'Thank the spirits for small mercies,'_ Jared said. _'If I had to suffer through your wet dreams about my girlfriend, I'd have a hard time getting it up.'_

 _'We all know you already have that problem, man, don't kid yourself,'_ Paul groaned, as he shook Jared off of him. _'Don't try to pretend I'd be the issue'_

He took a deep breath, feeling the anger dissipate as he did so. They were talking — that was a good sign. The words only got through him when his anger was already leaving him and Jared was well aware of that, which meant he made no further effort to get back on top of Paul when he fell on the ground beside him.

 _'What happened?'_ he asked, licking a wound in his hind leg.

Paul didn't answer but instead allowed the images and sounds from the night before to play in the front of his mind for Jared to watch. It would be better than any words Paul might have had.

 _'Ah, that sucks,'_ Jared agreed to Paul's sentiments as the last minutes passed in their mind. _'She's still stuck in the past, Paul, it's understandable seeing how the bloodsuckers can get. She's bound to have nightmares about it, especially now that she knows the red-haired bitch is after her.'_

 _'I know. I just... The feelings are so... And the screams.'_

 _'Yeah, man, I understand,'_ Jared said, as he raised his head to look at Paul.

Of course, he did. Jared always understood Paul's shit, since they had been stupid kids with no clue as to what they were doing. It was why he had gone there, why they lived together. Jared knew him better than anyone alive — and probably dead as well.

 _'Oh, I love it when you get sentimental on me,'_ he interrupted his thoughts, licking Paul's face as he did so. _'It's a shame I'm a committed man. Otherwise, I take you right here on this wet grass.'_

 _'Get off me, you fucker. I wouldn't do you if you were the last available hole on this planet.'_

 _'You say that now, but in that party-'_

 _'Stop bringing that up, man, for fuck's sake. If you want to go gay, go for it, but stop bringing that fucking party up. I was shitfaced and you had a wig on.'_

 _'Yeah, that's what he said,'_ Quil suddenly interrupted, amused at their bicker.

 _'Shut up, Quil'_ they said in unison, taking the opportunity to shift back.

"Man, I'm starving. I need some meat to speed up this healing," Jared complained, entering back into the house.

"Bacon?" Paul questioned, already moving to the fridge without waiting for an answer.

"I'll get the plates," Jared agreed, getting some napkins and wiping the blood off his torso. "Don't think you're getting off the hook so easily, though. You woke me up from a fucking good dream, you wash the dishes."

"Whatever," Paul grumbled, turning to the fridge to hide the smile blossoming on his face.

Yeah, it was good to be home.

* * *

The bonfire had been a terrible idea. Paul didn't want her to know any more of their stories than she already did, at least not yet. As an imprint, however, she had the right to know everything about his tribe and his pack — even if she was still completely clueless about such rights.

The elders would wait until midnight to arrive, however, so the pack was chilling on the beach — drinking and eating the piles of food Emily had prepared earlier. Someone had brought a soundbox and some stupid hippie music was playing. Bella wasn't there. He had planned to ignore her and watch for afar, trying to convince himself that it would be enough to satisfy the bond, but having her so close — being able to smell her — was making the pull in his middle impossible to ignore. Like a magnet, Paul was being drawn to her hiding place further along the beach, where she sat by herself, looking at the ocean.

His presence startled her, and she began to move to get up, but Paul signalized for her to stay put. She looked rather peaceful where she sat; it would be a shame to move her. Instead, Paul stopped at a respectable distance and sat down as well. He still could remember the last time they met vividly, and the look of fear she had on her face needed to be addressed before anything else. Maybe Paul wasn't ready for her to know of their bond straight away, but she needed to understand that he would never hurt her. He couldn't.

"I'm sorry I scared you the last time," He said, surprising himself with his own words. Paul couldn't remember the last time he had apologized to someone in his life. But something in him demanded that he made it crystal clear. She needed to know. "It wasn't my intention."

"Jake forced you to apologize?" She asked, after a long pause, looking rather sure of her assessment.

Paul couldn't hold the laughter down. "Jake? You've got to be shitting me."

The idea that Jacob could order him to do anything was so ludicrous that Paul could stop laughing, even after her expression became slightly offended. He tried — he really did — but it was impossible to stop the loud laugh bursting out of his lips.

"It cannot be that funny."

She had no clue. Nevertheless, it was better that way, at least for now. Before she could ask for the real reason he was apologizing — something he never did —, and dragged the truth out of him, Paul decided to make something up. Something more believable than Jacob's order.

"Jacob is a pup," He explained, gathering his legs closer and wrapping his arms around them. "Sam asked me to play nice for now. We want to catch the leech, Swan, and since she seems to be after you, we'll be seeing each other a lot."

There, it wasn't a complete lie. Sam had asked him to play nice before he imprinted, and they would be seeing a whole lot of each other. For the rest of their lives, if Paul had his way.

He tried to ignore the way she flinched in fear when he mentioned the leech. It triggered all sorts of possessive behavior on his wolf and he couldn't exactly act on those urges at the moment. Paul had a feeling she would protest if he were to grab her and lock her inside his house.

 _Easy,_ he reminded himself. _Don't scare her once again_.

"Bella," she automatically said. "Call me Bella, everybody does."

"Okay," Paul agreed, not feeling the need to add that he had already been calling her Bella in his mind. "Bella."

If he weren't staring directly at her like the creep he was slowly becoming, Paul would have missed the slight shiver that ran through her body. And while he wanted to believe that his voice had that sort of effect on her, the reality was that it had become cold on the beach. Of course, Paul couldn't really feel it, but focusing on the way her body was curling on itself, it was obvious she felt the cold.

She was only wearing a thin blouse. Where was her sense of self-preservation?

"Where's your jacket?" Paul demanded, way more sharply than the situation probably demanded. It wasn't as if he could control himself, he needed to take care of her and it would be nice if she didn't try to make his job harder than it needed to be.

She jumped a little at his bark, turning to look at the ocean in front of her. If she was trying to hide the blush crawling up her neck and face, it was useless — Paul could see it perfectly, even in the moonlight.

"I... forgot it," she stuttered, biting her bottom lip.

"You forgot? Are you kidding me? It's La Push, there's no way it wouldn't be fucking cold."

"It's fine, I'll ask Jake to borrow me one of his. He won't mind."

The fucker wouldn't, but Paul would. The wolf inside him howled at the picture of Bella wearing another wolf's clothing. She couldn't have chosen a worst way to respond — even though she had no way of knowing that. Having her smelling like Jacob — like any other person that wasn't him — would be a sure way of getting his temper to blow off.

"Come with me," he ordered, already getting up and offering his hand to help her.

"What? Where are we going?" Bella asked, grabbing his hand without hesitation.

It had been an unconscious gesture on his part, an unthoughtful act. No way would he have risked exposure otherwise. The second her hand touched his — her soft, small hand against his much bigger, rough hands — the electricity rolled up his entire arm, leaving him hyper-aware of every inch of skin they had touching. Thankfully, before Paul could do something stupid like whimper or grab her hand and not let it go, Bella ripped her hand away.

That was ridiculous. Paul did not behave like that, not even for his fucking imprint. He refused to be a ridiculous pup panting after a chick.

"Follow me," he gritted, circumventing the bonfire and the boys, not in the mood to explain himself to anybody.

The girl must really have no sense of preservation whatsoever because she fell into step with him automatically, struggling to keep up with his long strides. Paul, being the idiot he was, slowed down as soon as she panted a little, moving at the speed of a snail to allow little Bella to rest.

"Are you seriously not even going to tell me where we are going?" She asked, looking up at him. "Jake is going to worry if I'm missing."

"Jake," he hissed the word through his clenched teeth. "Will know you're with me, kid. We're wolves, they could hear the entire conversation — get used to it."

"I am," she grumbled back. "The whole no privacy thing is not just a wolf thing."

"Right, the leeches."

Was she deliberately trying to anger him? Why did she insist on bringing shit like that up?

"Do you have to call them that?"

No, he did not.

"I could call them bloodsuckers if that'll make you more comfortable."

"You're a werewolf, don't you think it's a little hypocritical to act like you're so much better than them?" She demanded, stopping in the middle of the street and glaring at him fearlessly.

Taha Aki had no respect for his nerves, that's all Paul could think about. On top of everything, he got saddled with a spitfire for a mate, great. That wouldn't end with them murdering each other in a near future — no way.

"I don't kill people to survive, Bella. My existence serves the benefit of nature — my kind was created to protect humans from something that should have never existed. I age, I change, I have a somewhat normal life — they don't."

"They don't kill anybody, though. The... The Cullens struggle against their very nature to be better than what they could be. Don't you think they deserve more than your ignorant contempt?" She stuttered their name, and looked quite pained at having to speak about them, but managed to finish the sentence without breaking down. From what Paul had seen in Jacob's memories, that was progress for her.

"No, I don't," He said, grabbing her arms and pulling her towards the house. "Now come on."

"Let go of me," She struggled, making Paul instantly stop and let go of her arm as if it burned him.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" He was already pushing the sleeve of her shirt up to see her upper arm. Thankfully it didn't have a single bruise on it. He needed to be more conscious of his strength around her — Paul made a mental note, for future references.

"No... no, I'm okay," She stuttered, blushing heavily as he continued to touch her arm. "I'm not that fragile, you know?"

"Right," Paul agreed, releasing her and stepping away from her. He wouldn't bother correcting her statement — Bella was probably tired of hearing how much fragile she was in comparison to the supernatural beings she surrounded herself with. "Wait here."

"What? Whose house is this?" She asked, coming closer to his house and critically analyzing it.

"Mine," He answered, opening the door before repeating his previous statement. "Wait for me, alright? It will only be a minute."

How could he explain how much he didn't want her to step inside of his house? Worse, how could he explain how much he did want her inside it, but couldn't bear the idea of seeing her there for fear of his reaction. Having her in his private space, near his stuff, would be a dangerous situation. It was probably better if they avoided those kinds of experiments for now.

Paul ran inside, quickly going to his room and opening his drawers to grab a thick jacket from within it. It would be too big for her, but perhaps that might be a good thing. She was so thin and small — it was obvious she needed all the fabric available to keep warm.

It couldn't have taken Paul more than two minutes, but when he turned to head down the stair he heard the noise he had feared: Bella opening the front door and walking into his living room. Why couldn't the girl follow any order?


	4. Complicated

**Author's Note: Hello my beautiful people. Here I am, once again, bringing a new chapter.**

 **I wanted to take the opportunity to inform that this will be a slow burn — Paul and Bella won't jump into a relationship straightway, okay? I'm sorry if that's what some of you are expecting, but I just can't see them ignoring everything else and jumping into something when they don't even know each other first. So yeah, there's that. Don't worry, though, we'll get to it. Eventually.**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not the owner of anything you see in here. Just messing around.**

* * *

Paul rushed down the stairs, clenching the jacket tight in his hand. The fact that Bella couldn't seem to follow the basic command to wait for him made his wolf howl in displeasure, but Paul pushed it down. Not only was Bella unaware of her place as his soulmate but she was still getting to know the pack — getting to know him.

Paul could control himself, for now.

As he stepped into the living room, Paul saw her before she even noticed his presence. He wanted to learn all about her, every detail. So he watched, closely. Watched as she tried to move quietly around the room, seeing the big TV hanging on the wall; the books stacked neatly on three parallel shelves above it; the huge leather couch on the opposite side of the room; and finally, above it, the various pictures of his dysfunctional family — him, Jared, and Anabelle Cameron.

Bella took her time inspecting the photos, one by one, seeming to find them way more interesting than Paul knew them to be. They were just some damn photos.

Finally, when he could no longer hold back his curiosity, he asked from where he stood:

"What are you doing here?"

She jumped high into the air, startled by his voice.

"I'm–is this your house?" She asked, blushing as she fidgeted in her spot at his question. It was obvious she was embarrassed at being caught, but Paul could only focus on the blood rushing up to her neck, which made him curious to see just how far he could push it before her entire upper body became that red.

"Technically, is Anabelle's," Paul answered.

A shadow crossed her face quickly before she hid it.

"Anabelle?"

"Anabelle Cameron," Paul explained. "Jared's mom. She took me in as a child."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, understanding right away. Bella took a deeper breath than needed before she opened her mouth and asked: "Can I ask what happened to your parents?"

Paul felt his fist clenching automatically as the usual anger ran through his body. His family wasn't a topic he ever felt like talking about and having Bella asking of them in their first time alone took him by surprise.

"Forget about it," she backtracked, blushing in embarrassment. "I shouldn't have pried like that. It's none of my business, anyway."

Only it was. Bella had a right to know all she wanted about him, no matter how painful or shameful it might be.

"It's fine," he reassured. And it was. "It's just not something I'm used to talking about. My mother was murdered, and my father is in jail for it."

"Oh my God," she muttered, stepping closer and raising her hand as if she was going to touch him before thinking better. "Paul, I'm so, so sorry I made you talk about this."

"It was a long time ago," he explained, feeling ridiculous for the disappointment at the missed opportunity of her touch.

"Time doesn't heal all wounds," she said, shaking her head and stepping even closer.

She was no longer talking about his parents, Paul could see that. Her wound was the one still opened after a long time.

"I was seven," he shared, once again surprised by how willing he was to talk about forbidden subjects with her. The damn bond wrapped around his middle seemed to release a warm feeling whenever he gave her what she wanted. "I had a long time to deal with it. Ana has been raising me as her own for many years now. It doesn't matter anymore."

The lie felt bitter on his tongue, and the bond tugged uncomfortably in punishment. Apparently, lying to your mate wasn't a good fucking idea. It also made Bella look somewhat angry.

"Don't you think it's a little rude to lie to my face like that?" She demanded, crossing her arms in front of her body.

It was insanity. One second she was stuttering apologies and starring at the ground, the next she's calling Paul on his bullshit right to his face. It only made the bond tug harder, however, reminding him that she had every right to demand the truth out of him.

It didn't mean Paul had to obey, though.

He raised his arm.

In his hand was his leather jacket. It was the only one he wore whenever he needed to leave the reservation and pretend to be human. Although it was uncomfortable to wear, that jacket was his favorite piece of fabric Paul owned — it had been a birthday present from Ana. Paul never allowed anyone else to wear it, not even Jared — no matter how persistent the fucker was.

The worn leather was shaped to his body and it had his scent in it. Paul didn't want anyone else using it, so why was he holding it towards Bella? It was ridiculous. He had plenty of old jackets and sweaters she could've borrowed. Hell, most of them she could keep if she wanted to.

So why had he grabbed it for her? Why was he holding it forward for her to wear? The dam bond was messing with his head.

Paul wanted to retract his arm, hide the jacket and forget the whole incident, but Bella reached for it before he could. She grabbed it and instantly put it on, getting swallowed by the big amount of fabric.

"Thanks," she said, pulling the sleeves up to have use of her hands.

"Don't mention it," he dismissed, trying to ignore the sign of his mate wearing his clothing. "Just don't ruin it."

She seemed embarrassed at that, biting her lip and gazing down.

"Is this an important jacket for you? Because perhaps you shouldn't lend it to me if it is, 'cause I'm kind of a klutz."

There, the perfect opening. Paul would ask for it back and give her some other random one. That would be fine.

"Stop being so pathetic, you can handle not getting fucked up for one night," he said instead.

Now that she wore it, there was no way Paul could ask for it back. Bella could — should — have anything she liked of his, and he could tell she liked the jacket.

"You certainly don't know much about me," Bella muttered, turning to face his pictures again.

The sentence made his wolf stir inside him once more. He wanted to know anything and everything about Bella.

"I know more than you think," he corrected, moving to stand behind her to see the pictures that called so much of her attention. "Jacob talks a lot."

"No!" she cried out, turning in her spot. It made them stand quite close to each other — almost close enough to touch. "Please don't tell me he has been talking about me to you guys."

"Not exactly," Paul explained. "The pack has a telepathic connection when we're in wolf form, so we can hear each other's thoughts. Let's just say little Jake has a lot to think about you."

Bella groaned and hid her face in her hands before muttering the muffled words.

"This is so embarrassing. Stupid wolf magic."

Paul couldn't help himself, he laughed. Bella looked so embarrassed — as though it was the worst thing ever that they knew of her moments with Jacob. What would she think of the stupid wolf magic that connected the two of them? The laughter died in his throat.

"You're okay with him being a wolf, but not okay with us knowing things about you?"

"It's different," she babied, grumbling into her hands still.

"How so?" he tried to understand.

"It doesn't matter to me what Jacob is, he's still my friend. But those moments — those conversations — are private. I don't want you seeing it."

"Me?" Paul asked, curious. "You don't want the pack to see them or you don't want me to see them?"

She blushed darkly but raised her head to face his stare.

"The pack," she clarified. "I don't want the pack to see them; I don't care about you."

It was a lie, Paul could tell. That she would lie to his face hurt, but he didn't expect anything different. It did sparkle a need to mark her and make her submit, to assert his control. Thankfully, Paul was used to ignoring his primal urges, so it only took some effort for him to shove those needs aside.

"Is that so?" he grunted. "We should get back, the elders must be there already."

Paul didn't wait for her to argue or start to walk, he turned and began to leave. She could close the door after herself. He was crossing the street when he heard her running steps coming after him.

"Wait!" she called.

Paul hated that his body halted instantly at her words.

"I'm sorry, that was rude," she apologized, catching up to him. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Get off your high horse, you didn't offend me," he snapped, tired of his own internal conflicts. "Let's go."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Paul pretended to enjoy it.

* * *

As the stories were told, Paul carefully watched Bella's reactions. She was sitting next to Jacob. Close enough that he could wrap his arm around her middle and hug her closer.

Paul watched them — discretely, of course. He wanted the opportunity to observe them and judge as objectively as possible.

Bella seemed happy in his hold, not moving to put distance between them at any moment. Perhaps she was still recovering from the weeks he had had to stay away from her, and so desired to stay as close as possible. Paul knew from Jacob's memories that Bella hadn't been that relaxed about the physical contact before his change.

Bella didn't seem to be paying attention to him, though. In fact, she appeared to be absorbed in the old tales Billy was telling. The man was convincing, Paul would give him that, but after so many years of listening to the same stories, he could remember almost word by word of them. His mate, however, had never heard any of his tribe tales and looked entranced at the words being spoken. Paul's wolf liked that. Liked that his mate was interested in his legacy, in his roots and traditions.

Paul pushed the wolf down, as he did so often. It wouldn't do to grow that attached to her — not when she was still hooked on the bloodsucker; not when he had given the go-ahead to Jacob. Bella was his imprint, that's all. He would protect her and keep her happy, the rest would fall into the hands of some other man who will have the patience to put up with all her needs.

Paul didn't allow his wolf to control any other aspect of his life, and he wouldn't allow it to decide this. If he ever decided to go monogamous, then it would be his choice and his choice alone.

Fuck fate. Paul would make his own path.

* * *

When Bill finally stopped talking, Paul breathed in relief. No one had said anything about the imprint. Finally a stroke of luck.

He got up and stretched, trying to decide if he was hungry enough to go bother Emily for some food. Bella was suddenly in front of him, however, still wrapped up in his jacket.

"I'm leaving, and just wanted to thank you again for the jacket. I'm going...I'm gonna sleep at Jake's," she said, looking as though she meant more by that than just a simple information. "I've already cleared it up with Charlie."

Knowing that Bella would stay at La Push, where the majority of the pack was, made Paul's wolf pur in satisfaction, knowing it would be easier to keep her safe there.

"Great," he couldn't help but say. "It's much safer for you here."

For some reason, that seemed to annoy her, and she only muttered a soft _goodnight_ before turning away and going towards Jacob.

Leaving Bella while she was unhappy triggered an unpleasant feeling and Paul went home cursing women for being so complicated — already knowing he would be shifting in a few moments to go guard Jacob's house.

* * *

 **AN2: Don't forget to leave a review! XoXo**


	5. Bad Plans

**Author's Note: _*walks in and carefully leaves the new chapter* *runs away before someone sees me*_**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not the owner of shit here. Unfortunately.**

* * *

For the following week, Paul kept his distance. He had, after all, given Jacob the go-ahead with Bella and the boy needed time and space to work his charm. After being inside the boy's head as much as he had, Paul could attest to just how much time and space the poor pup needed to make his damn move.

Instead, he kept himself occupied with work and patrols. Watching Bella overnight every day wasn't something Paul felt inclined to compromise on, however. The job of keeping her safe was his, and he trusted no one else to do it in his place. Besides, it was an opportunity for him to settle the bond a little. It worked, kind of.

Having Bella in La Push every day after school and staying near her house in the evenings was enough contact that Paul hadn't gone crazy yet. Was it enough to satisfy and calm the insistent pull around his middle? Fuck, no. But he would settle for what he could get.

The closer he got to her, the worst it would be. Paul had seen the others, he knew how the story would go. The more he saw her, the more he would need it. The closer they got, the harder it would be for them to go apart. No, it was better that Bella spent her time with Jacob, who had no weird, magical bond to her and could, instead, decide when and how to be with her.

* * *

Despite his careful planning, however, his plans were completely crushed on a Friday evening. Paul had gone to see Emily under the pretense of getting food. Both of them knew that Anna always made sure Paul and Jared had more than enough food available for them in the house but pretended to be unaware of it in order to keep the appearances.

Paul didn't do friendships, after all. At least not acknowledged friendships, and Emily was kind enough to play into his constructed life.

She was making some sort of cake on the counter of the kitchen as they spoke, back turned to him as Paul munched on a cookie at the table. Seeing as Emily's life mission seemed to be getting Paul to speak about his damn feelings, she had yet to stop nagging him.

"You cannot keep running forever, Paul," she insisted, in that fucking soft voice of hers.

"Watch me." Was Paul's clever answer.

Emily knew where to hit, though.

"She's hurting too, you know," she pointed out, flashing him a warning look over her shoulder. "Even if she doesn't know how or why she'll feel connected to you and the distance will hurt."

The cookie in his hand fell to the table, crumbled into dust. Paul's fist curled up tight, the veins in his arms popping out.

"Shut up," he ordered, trying to calm himself down. Bella was alright; she was fine. She wasn't feeling any pain from the bond whatsoever.

 _What about the nightmares?_ a dark voice whispered in his ears, installing the doubt firmly into his mind. It was bullshit, Bella had problems sleeping since before they met — it was the bloodsucker's fault, not his. That she seemed more nervous each passing day instead of calmer had nothing to do with him. No way.

"I won't," Emily carried on, despite his warnings. "Jared is great with you, but he won't call you out in this. He's too much of a boy to do it."

"She's fine," Paul denied. "She's just damn fine. Fuck, Emily, don't do this to me. You have no idea... It's been two weeks, there's no way she's feeling something."

Emily didn't allow his semi-meltdown to disturb her. She poured her batter into the mold, before hitting it against the counter lightly and placing it in the oven. When she finished the whole process, she turned to face him. She didn't look surprised by the mess at her table.

Her face, unlike the rest of the female population, was bright and clear. And so, her reproaching stare was unmissable. He knew how much the Pack meant for Emily, and he also knew how much she considered herself to be responsible for the boys' health and happiness — which meant she wasn't about the let go of that bone.

"Honey, you may be the wolf here, but I'm an Imprint, so I think my word is worth more than yours in this case," she said. "Bella is feeling something. I'm not guessing; I'm stating it. Keeping your distance will only hurt her more."

Emily began to walk in his direction with a look that Paul was way too familiar with, so he dragged his chair back in order to allow her to slide in between his legs to lean against the table and stand in front of him.

"You're pushing her away without even giving her the chance to prove herself to you," she added. The way she was currently looking at him was the reason Paul often avoided Emily. She saw too damn much. "Don't you think that, as your soulmate, she deserves better?"

Fuck Emily. Fuck her words. Fuck her convictions. Paul didn't have to believe her.

But he did. He did.

And because fate liked to mess with him, that was the moment Paul heard the noise. The sound Paul had quickly become familiar with — Bella's monster of a truck.

He looked suspiciously at Emily. That looked too much like an ambush to be a coincidence — she had always been a meddler.

"What's Bella doing here?" he demanded, watching her reactions closely.

She had the gall to smile.

"I may have mentioned to Jake that the poor girl might be tired of spending her time holed up in his garage."

"Why are you messing with my bond?" Paul asked, getting up from his seat. "I imprinted; it's supposed to be my choice."

"Wrong," Emily corrected. "It's her choice. And seeing as you thought it would be a great idea to tell Jacob to pursue her, I don't think you should be handling this on your own. Clearly, you are too bullheaded to make the right decisions."

Paul felt an answer at the tip of his tongue, burning the inside of his mouth with its poison, but the unbearable noise of his mate's truck indicated Bella's arrival — and with her, Jacob. Of course. Instead of his cutting words, Paul directed his best glare at Emily, trying to convey how much he wanted to curse her existence at the moment.

"Jake, I think we should knock." Bella's smooth voice cut through the silence.

Paul ignored the rush of adrenaline that ran through his body at her words.

"Relax, Bells," Jacob dismissed, opening Emily's door and bursting inside the house.

Paul ignored how much he hated the stupid nickname he had for his mate.

"Come on in, we were just having a little chat," Emily said, smiling at them. "Please, have a sit. I just put a cake in the oven."

"Humm," Jacob moaned at the thought of food, pulling out a chair. "We can definitely wait for cake."

Bella remained standing, however, positioning her body behind Jacob's. She looked uncomfortable as hell, constantly shifting her eyes around the room — almost as if she wanted to stare at something but knew it would be unpolite.

"So, Bella, how has it been?" Emily greeted, probably thinking she was doing Paul a favor by having her talk. What she didn't know was that Paul was trying his damn best to not get any more involved with Bella Swan than he had to. "I know La Push can be a bit monotonous sometimes."

"It's okay," she said. "I actually like it in here. I usually bring my homework or some book to read, so it's not really boring. Sometimes I'll walk to the beach."

What?

"I thought you were staying with her," Paul demanded, glaring at his packmate. If he had been leaving Bella alone, Paul would fucking murder him.

"I am," he tried to defend himself, raising his hands in surrender. "But I'm tired, alright? With patrols, school, and helping my father out it's been tough. So, yeah, I kinda fell asleep once or twice."

Seeing Bella's guilted look it had probably been way more than once or twice. How dare him? Paul stayed with Bella every night — and when he wasn't working he would sometimes watch her while she was at school as well. How dare little Jacob put his mate's life in danger just because he was tired?

Tha tremors began to run across his body, which made Emily jump away from him in surprise. Of course, she wouldn't want an out-of-control wolf so close to her, and Paul felt immediately bad for having scared her in her own house, which, in turn, only served to further his anger. Shit, he needed to leave. Bella shouldn't have to see him like that.

Suddenly a voice called his attention.

"Paul?"

It was his mate. Bella was trying to get his attention. Paul turned sharply to look at her, automatically running his eyes up and down her body to check for possible wounds.

"Mate, calm down," Jacob's annoying voice sounded next, as the fucker stood up to shield his mate with his body.

"Stop that," she complained, stepping out of his shadow and stepping closer to Paul's shaking form.

"Paul, perhaps you should step outside for a second," Emily tried to reason, looking a little ashamed at her previous reaction.

"I'm fine," he gritted, still trying to get a grip on his emotions. He wanted to — needed to — punch Jacob right in the face. Maybe knock some teeth out.

"I'm safe, Jacob didn't leave me alone and I've been inside the reservation all the time," Bella assured, coming even closer with each word. "I'm okay."

It was likely the bond that made her react that way, but she seemed to know exactly why he was so mad and how to calm him down because her soft-spoken words and the proximity were working. Slowly, Paul felt himself starting to gain some control back, only shaking ever so slightly. Jacob, however, needed to learn how to behave real quick.

"Bells, give him space," he fucking ordered, launching himself towards Bella and putting his big sweaty palms on her shoulder, pushing her away.

Paul's answering growl was unlike any he had ever released before — threating and possessive at the same time. The pup was about to lose that hand in five seconds if he didn't let go of his mate.

"Hey, hey," Emily interfered. "None of that in my kitchen. Cool down, both of you. Jacob, release Bella, that's ridiculous. Paul won't hurt her, you know that."

The pup didn't seem to accept that and still held his mate tight. Thankfully, before Paul had to act, his mate shrugged Jacob's hand off her shoulder and moved to glare at him.

"That was completely unnecessary, Jake. Of course he wouldn't hurt me."

The tremors ended, just like that. The words were the truth, he would never hurt her — could never hurt her even if he wanted to. Seeing her defending him in front of them was more gratifying than Paul could ever begin to explain — something about having his mate trusting him with her safety, even if she didn't really know him.

"Fuck off, Jacob," he finally said. "I wasn't about to lose it; quit acting like I'm out of control."

"Could've fooled me," Jacob dared, but refused to meet his eyes and instead sat back down once more. Paul would have to talk to him when they were alone.

"So..." Once again Emily made an effort to break the awkwardness hanging in the air, now heavier than before. "Bella, Jake told me you like motorcycles. That's cool. Have you guys been riding?"

"Jake was teaching me," she said. There was a pause, as she seemed to consider her next words before she added: " But with school and the patrols... he's just so tired."

Paul felt his fists closing.

"I told you it's fine," Jacob grumbled.

"Jake, you passed out on the couch yesterday. I'm clumsy enough for the two of us — you need to be awake. It's okay, we'll have time when..." she allowed the sentence to die in her lips, but they all knew what she meant. When the redheaded died. If Paul had his way, that would be soon.

Emily stepped on his foot. Hard. Obviously, she had yet to learn when to stay out of other people's relationships, because the glare she sent his way told him exactly what she wanted him to do in that situation. It wasn't like he hadn't thought about it — he had — but even though he loved his bike, Paul had decided to avoid Bella. That was the plan. Offering to teach her would force them to be together for longer than what he felt comfortable with.

At the same time, however, he could fell her scent surrounding the room. The strong beat of her heart, echoing across the kitchen. The pull was stronger than ever, tugging him towards her relentless. At that moment, Paul wanted to give in, to surrender himself to the strong feeling inside him demanding that he grow some balls and stop running away from the woman who was meant to be his fucking soulmate.

She threw a glance his way. That's all it took. One goddamn glance and Paul was doomed.

"I could teach you how to ride," he said, trying not to imagine how many wounds she could suffer if she ever had a motorcycle accident. For some reason he rather not investigate further, Paul felt the need to add: "Much better than Jake."

"Don't you have patrol too, though?" Bella asked, clearly trying to mask her excitement at the prospect of riding again.

How could Paul explain that hanging with her was his patrol? Knowing that the redheaded leech was after his mate made Paul force Sam's hand at the distribution of the shifts. He would not be separated from her more than necessary — not until she was safe.

"The real answer," she carried on before he could try to come up with an alternative version of the truth.

At his puzzled face, Bela explained: "I've seen that face enough times to know what it means. You want to keep things from me to protect me — well, I don't need coddling. Give me the truth."

Fuck, a direct order from Bella felt almost like a whip to the back.

"You're the main target here. It's likely that if anything were to happen, it would be around you. Spending time with you would be my patrol, so to speak."

"Oh," she gasped, perhaps surprised that he actually gave her a straight answer. "It sucks to be stuck with me, you don't have to entertain me as well. Jacob can teach me some other time, it's fine."

"Don't be so dramatic," he dismissed. "If I didn't want to teach you, I wouldn't have offered. You wanna, or not?"

She did. The smell of excitement clung to her like a strong perfume, and her heart began to pump a little harder as she processed what Paul had just said. The question was: would she consciously choose to spend more time alone with him?

"Yeah," she agreed, knocking all of his doubts. "I wanna."

"Good."

Emily smiled. Jacob frowned. Bella pushed back a chair to sit by his side.

What had he done?


	6. Take Me Out

**Author's Note: Annnnnnd I'm back. Yep, just returned with a brand new chapter. Aren't you proud?**

 **A huge shout out to everyone who has commented, reviewed, followed or favorited this story. I know Paul and Bella aren't a very popular couple, so I appreciate all of you who enjoy this piece.**

 **Disclaimer: No, no. Not mine. No. Not. Mine.**

* * *

"Show me what you've got, kid," he said, putting the bike by her side.

"Ugh, don't call me kid," she demanded, holding the handles. "You're not that old, anyway."

"Older than you," Paul made sure to point out, before stretching his lips into a condescending smirk. "Kid."

Instantly her face changed into a somewhat dazed look — almost like a trigger. It was a new look on her; one Paul had yet to see on either Jacob's memories or his own. He had no idea what he had said or done, but it had brought up the strangest reaction out of her.

"You suck," she murmured but seemed almost lost in her thoughts.

No knowing how to categorize her reaction, Paul fell back into his usual response in the face of the unknown.

"I don't," he leered at her. "At least not yet."

She blushed immediately, which, in turn, made Paul feel a little bit like an idiot for making that sort of insinuation to her. Of course, Bella wouldn't be used to that sort of innuendo.

"Hop on," he ordered when she failed to give a spoken answer, feeling out of his depth with her.

Bella looked excited, though. Too excited. As soon as she moved to straddle the bike her heart began to pump harder and the smell of anticipation clung to her skin strongly — too similar to addicts to be comfortable for him.

What was Bella's deal with those bikes?

No one smelled that hooked straddling a motorcycle, not even those who, like him, fucking loved riding. She was waiting for something else, he could tell. But what?

"You okay there?" He asked, suddenly reconsidering his bright idea of helping her.

"Y-yeah," she stuttered, not helping her case.

"Right," Paul said, suspiciously. "Remember where everything is?"

She nodded, eyes stuck to the path ahead.

"Show me," he demanded, not willing to trust her safety to an absent-minded nod.

"Brake," she began, moving her hand and foot in a demonstration. "Gear..."

Paul watched carefully as she moved to show all the basic controls. At least she seemed to remember all the important parts, but the brake thing wouldn't help.

"Jake unhooked your rear brake?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, quite pathetically in his opinion. "I had an accident the last time."

"Oh, I know. Seven stitches, hun?"

She groaned, "Shut up."

"Why did you lose control?" It was important to know what her mistake had been.

A guilty look flashed across her face for some seconds at his question before she looked away, hiding her expression.

Not suspicious at all.

"I didn't know how to turn," she lied. "I panicked."

"'Course you did," Paul agreed. "Let's see it. Show me what you've got, kid. Don't go too far, though."

She didn't wait any longer. Heart racing and sweat clinging to her forehead, Bella accelerated and took off in a show of unbalancedness.

Quicker than Paul would've liked, she began to move faster and faster, ignoring his warning shouts to slow the fuck down.

What the hell?

What. was. Bella's. deal. with. those. bikes?

Was the girl suicidal?

Paul began to run after her, trying not to phase as he did so. Bella was already frightened enough of him without adding a gigantic wolf to the mess; he would simply have to control himself.

Suddenly, however, she came to a halt, almost losing her balance and falling to the ground. Not pausing for a breath, Bella turned and locked eyes with him, smiling brighter and bigger than he had ever seen her do before.

Her smile took his breath away, and in a weird turn of events, Paul was the one whose heart felt like a thundering mess.

"That was amazing!" she exclaimed, wiping the drops of sweat from her red face. "How faster can I go on this bike?"

Paul tried to calm himself. She was safe, she was alright. Bella wasn't hurt and she hadn't lost control of her motorcycle. She wouldn't fall, she wouldn't need help.

Paul had been a fool. Clearly, that was too much and too soon for him. Bella evoked so many feelings Paul had never felt before, which made him uncomfortable and eager to escape.

Ignoring her for a minute, Paul grabbed his phone and quickly texted Jared:

 _need to go out 2night. u free?_

 _Man, don't make me do this. You don't understand how horrible it is to stand at the club after you imprint._

Jared was always so uptight — even texting. It was something Paul made sure to tease him about constantly. In that situation, however, the annoyance came from the content instead of the text form. Paul needed to vent, how dared Jared deny him?

 _don't be such a pussy. u in or not?_

 _One day I'll stop enabling your sorry ass, I swear._

 _..._

 _In. Meet you at Dawn. 10 pm?_

 _sweet_

Turning back to face his imprint, Paul shifted his face into a mask of indifference that he had worn too many times in his life and could rely on to hide his true feelings from others. Bella wanted to learn how to ride, so that's what he would do.

She was no different than another girl on top of a motorcycle. That's what he would repeat internally until it was stuck in his brain.

* * *

"You're going to regret this," Jared said as a greeting, stepping out of Kim's car.

"Have fun, honey," she joked, flashing her head out the window. "Hey, manwhore, hands off my man, alright?"

"Fuck off," he grumbled, annoyed at Jared for having shared that story with every person on the face of the planet.

"Well, someone's grumpy tonight," Kim pointed out, rather unhelpful, before waving them goodbye and finally taking off.

"You are grumpy," The fucker at his side echoed, falling into step with him. "What happened? Please don't tell me you fucked up with Bella already."

"Shut up. I was trying to teach her how to ride a motorcycle."

"Paul, there's a leech hunting her down, and you want her to ride a motorcycle?" Jared was trying to be reasonable like he always did, but he didn't understand.

"She fucking wanted it."

"Did she?" He seemed surprised. "Well, that's a step in the right direction, no?"

"No," Paul growled out as they reached the bouncer at the door of the club.

Nick never asked for their identities or even stopped them as they made their way in. Not only the both of them appeared to be closer to twenty-five than their actual age, but also Paul knew every single worker at the club. He was a regular there — had been for a couple of years since he phased. As they entered, Paul nodded in acknowledgment to Nick, knowing his silent treatment would surprise no one.

As soon as they stepped into the room, Paul understood what Jared had been trying to say before. It was a headache ready to happen — the blurry faces of countless women shifting in front of him as they danced to the heavy beat. Paired with the usual loud music and overwhelming scents, it was enough to threaten his control right off the bat.

He didn't stop there, though, but went up the stairs to the second floor, where the bigger bar was located. Paul needed the booze — quickly.

Sitting on an empty stool, he looked straight at the bartender and demanded:

"Patrón, Marcus, and keep 'em coming."

"Sure," he agreed easily, more than used to Paul's drinking habits. "You want something, handsome?" he asked Jared.

"Just a beer for me, thanks," he said, grabbing some money from his pocket.

"You're such a weak ass," Paul pointed out, quickly downing his shot. It barely felt like alcohol — beer was just a joke for them.

"I'm not here to forget, man. I like beer."

"Whatever," Paul dismissed, trying to ignore the jab.

Marcus filled his glass as soon as it hit the table, which earned him a good tip at the end of the night. Even if it took the entire bottle, Paul would take it. He came prepared to leave only when the face of Bella Swan no longer occupied all corners of his mind.

He needed the silence, the quietness. He needed sex, and he was sure one of those blurry-faced women would agree to invite him to their house.

"Paul," Jared finally called his name in that familiar but quite unnerving tone that he had been both dreading and expecting.

He wanted to ignore the call of his name and keep on drowning his sorrows in the glass in front of him, but the persistent glare he felt on his shoulder stole his attention, just as Jared knew it would.

"What?" Paul compromised by acknowledging his brother without taking his eyes off the Patrón.

"What's this really about?" his voice was even as he spoke, not needing to raise his tone to be heard by Paul. "How much longer will you keep running from Bella?"

"However long it takes for stupid Jacob to make his damn move on her."

"That right there should be an indication that you're not okay with this. You don't dislike Jake, not really. He's pack, family."

Paul didn't hate Jacob, but he also wasn't the boy's biggest fan at the moment. It had nothing to do with Bella, however, but all to do with his inability to be a damn man. He wanted to curse and fight Paul the second he knew about the imprint, but couldn't seem to tell Bella about his fucking pathetic feelings.

"Jacob is simply making my life more difficult than it needs to be right now."

"Jacob is young and clueless, I'll give you that. But don't act like you're being so goddamn nice with this whole story either. Paul, you are out of your depth here, just admit it."

"Since when did you become my goddamn therapist? Have you been talking to Emily again?" he asked, glaring at his best friend for being such a dick in their night out. Couldn't he see that Paul needed a break?

"Since you decided to screw up your life even further than you already have," Jared replied evenly, refusing to be sidetracked. "I know you don't believe you can ever be in a long-term relationship, but you're wrong, Paul. You are. You wouldn't have imprinted on Bella if this wasn't supposed to happen."

"Supposed to happen?" Paul asked, disgusted with the fated shit Jared insisted on spitting out. "None of this was supposed to happen, get real. I'm not fighting the imprint, I simply refuse to believe we need to be a couple, is that so wrong? Bella will be damn fine with the pup and I'll be free to live my life how I want it."

And that's what Paul had gone there to do — remind himself that he could still be himself despite all the shit going on around him. It was all a matter of balance. That's what the others fail to get about the situation. Paul was not rejecting Bella or resentful of the bond itself — how could he? He simply knew who he was and what he felt. He was a free man; he needed that life.

"And what about what you need?" Jared asked, giving him a pointed look.

Paul gulped uncomfortably, gazing to the side to see a brunette heading his way. Thankfully. Saved by pussy, once again.

Paul couldn't exactly see her face, but the way she moved indicated her intentions quite clearly — especially to a guy like him, who was more than used to having desperate woman throwing themselves at him. She had a nice enough body and could probably suck his dick without killing his erection — that would do.

"Man, don't do this."

Jared's plead felt dead to his ears. Paul was already downing the Patrón in front of him in preparation; nothing would stop him from doing his thing, not even Jared.

"Hey, handsome," a soft voice came from his back. "You alone?"

He turned to face her, a clever answer at the tip of his tongue, only to have it die in his mouth the second he actually saw the figure next to him. She was close — too close. Paul could smell her scent and see every inch of her body, and it all repulsed him. The bond responded to the threat by making her as unappealing as possible — an overkill, honestly. She smelled like dead fish and a dirty sewer; Paul could hardly handle it.

"Well, cat got your tongue?" she teased, seeming to think his lack of response came from a place of flattery rather than the actual truth. Feeling bold, the girl reached forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

The touch made him feel nauseated and, frankly, utterly disgusted. The dance that once had felt so natural to him was lost in a single moment, leaving Paul unaware of how to proceed in that situation — what was he supposed to say? The woman was obviously interested, and so was he — right? So why was he stuck in place, ready to shove her hand off his body and run home? Suddenly he got up, forcing her to take a step back.

"Yeah," he forced the word out, through gritted teeth. "I'm alone."

That must have been enough for her because the girl grabbed his hand and began to lead him towards the stairs.

"Not anymore, you're not," she spoke, her rotten breath hitting him like a slap in the face. "Let's go dance, shall we?"

No, Paul couldn't handle a whole dance next to the demon in front of him. Surely, they could forgo the ridiculous steps and head straight to the part that interested the both of them — the sex. If only Paul could get an erection and fuck her until this horrible sensation surged out of him, then he would be a whole lot better.

He allowed himself to be led, not even pausing to spare a glance back. Jared knew his routine; he would be fine. Right now Paul needed all his focus not to react to the overwhelming feelings crashing into him. The girl was saying something to him as they went down the stairs, Paul was sure, but he couldn't force himself to pay attention to what it was. Perhaps she was telling her name — that seemed to be about right.

As soon as they pushed their way inside the packed dance floor, Paul took a deep breath, trying to fill his lungs with the horrible scent surrounding him to avoid the indisputably worst one coming from the woman in possession of his hand. He would not fail. He knew how to manipulate women; he simply had to tap into his knowledge.

She wasn't about to make his job easy, though. Obviously using the crowd to her advantage — Jenny, Jenifer, Jessica — pressed her body flat against his, grinding to the beat in what she thought was an alluring manner. Wherever her naked skin touched him, an ice cold numbness was left behind. Paul forced his hand to rest on her waist. One dance. He would hang tight during one dance, and then he would get them the hell out of that club.

She was talking once more. How could she have so much to say to a stranger? What did Paul have to do to shut her the fuck up?

"You're so hot." He got that, right before she reached up and smacked her mouth against his.

She was kissing him and Paul's system went into shutdown.

Bella. She's not Bella. He was not supposed to be kissing anybody else. Wrong. That was beyond wrong.

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

Paul pushed her away. Strongly. The girl stumbled and fell to the floor, dress riding up and heels up to the sky. Paul didn't stop to help, he turned and ran out the door, pushing everyone out of his way.

He made it just in time. The second the fresh air touched his face, Paul vomited all over the sidewalk, holding his stomach tight as the bile left his body in an acid surge. His entire body was numb, yet Paul could feel every nerve exposed to the elements. His mouth was the worst, though. It tingled, and burned, and itched, and ached, and hurt.

"Come on, man," Jared's voice rang by his side. "Let's go for a run, hun?"

Paul spat one last time on the floor before raising his head and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Yeah," he rasped weakly. "Take me out of here."


	7. Harsh Truths

**Author's Note: Hello, beautiful people. Look who's back so soon with another chapter? Ain't that great? Amazing? No? Okay, I'll just go cry in the corner there.**

 **A huge thanks to everyone who favorited, followed or reviewed this piece. Y'all rock my world.**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not the owner of anything you see here, alright? I'm just messing around with Paul's and Bella's lives a little to see if they finally get around to make out and shit.**

* * *

Paul was tired. Exhausted, if he was being honest with himself. He had worked himself frenetically — not only physically, but mentally as well. It was punishment, in a certain way. After leaving the club — or rather, after Jared almost carried him out of the club — Paul had heard in disbelief as his brother told him not to freak out when the worst came. Paul hadn't been able to conceive what could be worse than the disgusting, and frankly, humiliating experience he had just went through. The bond hadn't been done screwing with him goddamn life, though, because Jared hadn't lied. The second he shifted and the wolf gained control over his body, the bond lashed out like nothing he had thought possible.

It was torture — punishment. As easy and as horrifying as that. The usually coiled band surrounding his middle expanded until it could release heat to every part of his gigantic form. It burned and ached — the parts he had been touched were even worst, though. They began to bleed as the dirty touch was expelled from his body, leaving him once more clean for his mate. It was a traumatic experience, even with his brother sitting by his side and guiding him through it.

All and all, he was already having a crappy fucking day when he heard it. The howling call of one of his brothers, alerting him to the presence of a leech in their land. Paul had to admit that the idea of ignoring the call and letting the others deal with it had crossed his mind for a few long moments before the sense of duty — and mostly the possibility of Bella being in danger — forced him to get up from the bed and shift once again.

It was the redheaded bitch, of course. It didn't surprise Paul that she would pick the worst day possible to cross the line and enter the reservation.

He was already running in her direction, seeing her from Sam's thoughts as he, Embry, and Quil chased after her a few miles away. The chance to get a piece of the bitch was almost enough to make him salivate, driving Paul to push his legs faster in an attempt not to miss the party. He came to a sudden halt, however, when he noticed she was toying with them. Her movements were meant to cause confusion — to distract.

He could see where she was going, though. To the cliffs.

As soon as he came to that conclusion, the voices of his pack mates filled his head.

 _'Paul, man, you have to go! Jake promised to take Bella to the cliffs today!'_ Quil's hurried thoughts pushed themselves into his mind.

 _'Jake and Bella are there!'_

 _'Paul, go.'_ Finally, the order from his alpha, telling him to change directions and go to his mate. _'We'll try to distract her in order to buy you some time. Get her out of the reservation – keep her safe. We'll call you when we have new.'_

Paul didn't wait for a second longer. The moment Bella's name had been dropped he had altered his direction, following the tug of the bond without any further incentive. He let Sam know he understood his order with a quick ' _okay'_ — focusing all of his attention when he felt Jacob shift and join their mental link.

 _'I'm coming for Bella, keep her out of the water,'_ he ordered, seeing the boy's memories as he showed Bella standing next to him close to the edge of the highest damn cliff.

 _'I could do it,'_ Jacob decided to argue. _'We're not far from her car.'_

 _'Get her inside the car, Paul's almost at your location. We need you here,'_ Sam ordered once more, showing how close they actually were from the leech.

 _'Fine,'_ he agreed and shifted back.

Paul tried to ignore the chase and the need to help his brothers as he ran towards his mate, feeling the ground giving under his powerful paws. The bond demanded he search Bella and get her to safety, but it didn't mean he didn't wish to be with the pack hunting the bloodsucker alongside them. That was his duty. Shying away from that was a novelty he couldn't help but dislike.

When he reached the end of the trees and could see Bella's car in the distance, where she was asking Jacob what was going on, Paul forced the fight away from his thoughts in order to calm down enough to shift back. It took a couple of attempts, but he succeeded at last.

Pushing his shorts up his legs, Paul ran to where they were, pausing only to slap Jacob on the shoulder and order:

"Go!"

The boy left the driver's seat, waving goodbye to Bella quickly before moving towards where Paul had come from to shift without being seen.

Paul sat next to his mate and immediately felt a wave of concern leave his body as he assured himself that he had made it in time and his mate was still unharmed.

Suddenly, he remembered something. Damn, he could not call in sick again.

Starting the car, Paul began to drive, hoping he would be able to get in on time.

"Where are we going?"

"I can't miss another day of work," Paul explained, not taking his eyes off the road. "And since I can't let you out of my sight, you're coming with me."

"You work outside of the reservation?" she asked, sounding curious about his job. "What do you do?"

"Port Angeles, actually. I teach Muay Thai — it's a fighting style."

"Oh," Bella murmured. "Okay, I can see it. Have you always liked fighting?"

How could Paul explain what fighting meant to him without totally freaking her out? How could he even begin to make her understand it when it involved so much of his fucked up childhood?

"Yeah," he settled for a simple answer. "It was a good way to work out some steam."

Paul should've known that Bella wasn't about to settle for the easy response. That was just his luck.

"But why fighting, though? What it is that you like about it?"

"I just needed it," Paul decided to go with the truth, knowing it would be less complicated to give her the answers she needed than ignoring the tug of the bond. "Some people talk, some people write, some people read. I fight; it's what I do."

"Do you like it?"

" _Yes_ ," Paul stressed the word, trying to show how true that was. "The adrenaline, the rush, the freedom. Yeah, I like it."

"Hm," she hummed, contemplating his words. Bella didn't sound judgmental, however, only deep into thoughts. Paul knew it wouldn't last — and that the minute she actually saw him losing control in a real fight she would run scared — but it was still nice to talk to her about it without feeling defensive.

"But what about teaching," she asked, turning to face him once again. "Do you also like having students?"

"Not really," he said, finally allowing his head to move towards her and meeting her gaze. "I needed a job, and I was good at it — that's pretty much it. There was also the fact that after I phased, my work hours needed to be more flexible, which also counted in favor of the gym because I could always cover other classes when I needed to miss one. The truth is, though, that restraining myself with the students is not always very easy for me — and it took some time to find a balance point for me, you know?"

Paul didn't know where the words were coming from, but he never felt more inclined to share parts of himself than right there, looking into his mate's eyes and sharing a closed space with her. That she seemed so immersed in their talk, holding his gaze steadily and nodding in agreement to his words, only encouraged him to carry on speaking.

"It's not terrible. I do kind of like teaching others how to do things correctly and seeing them improve in a short period of time, but it's not what I see myself doing in the long term — neither is it the part I most enjoy out of my life. I much prefer the cage fights."

Damn. He felt the last part slipping past his lips only a second after it had already been said, with no chance of rewinding back to shut the hell up before he said the words. There was no way Bella would let that go unnoticed, Paul thought, and was proven right when she opened her mouth to ask:

"Cage fights?"

"It's something I do sometimes," he tried to downplay it, hoping she would take a hint and leave it.

Of course, he wasn't so lucky.

"Is that like a competition? People in your gym compete inside cages?" Bella tried again, frowning in confusion.

Paul was not sure whether to be amused at her naiveté or annoyed at her persistence. That girl could not let things be.

"No, that's not how it happens," he said, chuckling a little at the thought. Maybe it was amusing — only just a tiny bit. "Cage fights are arranged for people like me, who know how to fight and to make a performance but cannot do it the normal — _legal_ — way. It's programmed. Generally, the owner of an underground bar arranges for a few fighters to come and put on a show for the customers of the night. It's a gladiator contest, pretty much. The last one standing is the king of the cage."

"You do know my dad is a cop, right?" Bella asked, grinning at him and looking somewhat smug.

"You gonna rat me out?" he asked in return, trying his damn hardest to look away from her distracting face.

"I might," she responded, her smile stretching even further until it looked like she was about to rip her skin with happiness. "Or, maybe, you know, we could work some sort of deal — just between the two of us, of course."

Paul couldn't help himself, he snorted in surprise; a laugh crossing his lips so fast that it forced a weird air sound out of his nostrils. It was half-amusing and half-humiliating. On one hand Paul wasn't the easiest to surprise or entertain, so he would take amusement where he found it, but, on the other hand, if there was one person he didn't wish to be making weird noises next to, that someone was his mate.

"What did you have in mind?" he managed to push out, finally, after struggling to catch his breath once more. He was trying to sound serious, less she thinks he was mocking her.

"Well," she began, not commenting on his episode or changing her tone. "I would like to see you fight."

Well, that was a proverbial bucket of cold water to the face. The answer was easy.

"No," Paul was quick to answer. No way would he take Bella to such a dangerous place.

The smile vanished from her face at that, and an incredulous expression formed on her gorgeous face in its place. Bella looked surprised Paul had denied her something; and why did that make him uncomfortable and almost ready to backtrack and agree to anything she could want?

"No? Common, I promise not to stand in your way or anything," she tried to compromise. When he failed to respond, she added in a soft, hurt voice. "I'll even pretend to not know you... if you're worried about that."

What? She thought Paul was ashamed of hanging around her in a third class, dirty, old bar? If she didn't have such a deponent look on her face he would've laughed at the ridiculousness of the idea. She truly had no clue. Paul wanted to scream to the world about her and then some.

Sometimes, such as that one, reminded Paul that she did not, in fact, know about the imprint. There she was, sitting by his side, asking him personal questions that he would never give answers to were she anybody else, and somehow under the impression that she was just a burden to him. A trouble he had no choice but to bear with. Suddenly the thought was unbearable to him, and he wanted nothing more than to show her otherwise.

"That's not at all what I'm worried about," he said, stressing out the words as much as he dared without scaring her. "It's not a place for a girl, Bella. It's all adrenaline and blood, dirty money and cheap liquor. I wouldn't want to put you in danger."

He turned to face her once again, pleading with his eyes for her to understand how much he meant that. She had her arms crossed in front of her body in a defensive position, and her face allowed him to see how much his rejection had hurt her, but she didn't look at from him. Instead, Bella searched his face for answers, trying to gauge how much of that was true or not.

"You'd be there, though," she finally said, after several moments of silence in which Paul had been forced to look back at the road to avoid crashing the truck. "How dangerous would it really be? And don't give me bullshit — be real with me."

The order forced Paul truly to consider the possibility. She was somewhat right, even though Paul was hard-pressed to admit it. If Paul had a stronger sense of ethics and moral, he would never go to such fights — even though it was sort of bizarre to try and consider morals when thinking about cage fights — because he was so much stronger and capable than any other person in the room. He never had any competition during those fights. Paul did it to relieve the pressure and gain some fast money — that was it.

It wouldn't be impossible to watch her and win his rounds. Sure, she might come in contact with some shady people Paul much rather she avoid altogether, but if he kept her close to the cage and gave her some strict instructions… it could work.

Little Jake would freak out if he heard about his precious Bella being around those sort of violent competitions.

That was the thought that finally brought a reluctant smirk back to his face and settled the deal for him. Bella was his fucking mate, and she could go with him to wherever she wanted. Paul would keep her safe.

"Fine," he said, giving her a serious look. "But there will be some rules. I'm not kidding; those places are not a kid's park."

The shocked expression that immediately took over her face made it all worth it. Bella's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened as she heard his surrender, arms falling from their forced position into the seat.

"You-you are," she began, rushed. "Are you saying that to pacify me?"

"That's not really my style, kid."

For once, she didn't complain when he called her a kid. Instead, she fucking glowed.

"So, not backing down?" She demanded as if she was ready for him to change his mind at any minute now.

"Look, I've already said yes. I'm not going to go back on my damn word, okay? We'll discuss some rules and I'll pick you up the next time one comes up," he explained, hoping they could move on from the subject at once. Even though he had agreed to take her to see him fight, it didn't mean that he was excited for her to see him as an out-of-control aggressor.

She looked embarrassed by his little speech, blushing deeply from her neck up to her cheeks.

"Yeah, okay, I get it," she nodded her head as if her agreement hadn't been made clear. "I'm sorry; I'm just not really used to this kind of situation."

"What kind of situation?"

"Well, people around me are always trying to decide what's best for me, you know? I'm not used to having a say in what I get to do or not."

That just sounded goddamn sad.

"Bella, you're eighteen, for god's sake. You decide what you do with your life, not anybody else. You chose to walk around supernatural creatures, which perhaps complicates matters somewhat, I'll give you that, but that shouldn't stop you from making your own path in life. Nobody is gonna give you the reins of your life — you either take it or others will own your ass 'till you die."

Paul hadn't realized he felt so strongly about the matter until the words started to pour out of his mouth like an overflowing river knocking down a dam. It was a lesson he wanted to teach her. Life wasn't easy and the sooner Bella started making her own decisions, the better.

"I-I know. I've always been independent and self-sufficient," she explained, dropping her leg in the seat between them before hugging it. "Living with my mom… let's just say she taught me to grow up pretty quickly. But coming to Forks has been a dizzying experience. Suddenly humans are surrounded by these supernatural beings that are so much more capable than us — and I'm in the middle of it. I try — I do — but it's difficult to gather my wits when I'm always facing matters that are so out of my depth."

She took a deep breath, resting her chin on her knee before she carried on.

"With-with-Victoria. She's not something I can hope to face on my own. If she decides to walk into my room at night and kill my father and me, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. So yeah, for a human I'm just fine, but for vampires and werewolves? How can I even begin to compete with that?"

"First of all," Paul said, turning into the right street for his gym and maneuvering into an empty parking space. "The leech cannot enter your room at night, not unless she goes past me — and that's not happening. It's just not. I know it's a fucked up situation, but you rest assured that she won't be murdering you — or Charlie for that matter. If the bitch comes close to your house, her ass is mine."

When the car was parked, Paul unbuckled his seatbelt, turning to face his mate and reassure her of his seriousness. He may have growled a little at the end, his wolf surging at the thought of finally getting his hands around the bitch's neck.

"Second," he added. "It's not a competition. Bella, I don't know what Jacob has told you or what you took from the stories Bill told, but being a wolf is not all that it's cracked up to be. Yes, we're stronger and faster than humans, but we're also constantly angry and alert. The smells around us are often disgusting, we hear all the soft noises and conversations nearby, we have to be in control at all times to refrain from breaking things or hurting humans… it's not pretty or fairytale-like."

"And your precious leeches, they are dead. I don't know how else to explain that to you. They don't ever grow up, grow old, evolve, reproduce… they're stuck, forever."

He leaned forward, invading her personal space somewhat and trying to come up with a good way to say what he wanted. He forced his voice to go soft and gentle for her, carefully watching her reactions, in case she looked ready to cry or slap him.

"I know you may have wanted that at some point… perhaps you still do, but there's more to being a le-vampire than getting cool superpowers and a ton of money. They need to kill to survive — for them it's a constant hunger that never goes away. Even the ones that resist, they are still at the edge all the time. It's unnatural. They are predators, and even if they pretend to be human, that's still what they'll always be."

"Would you change it, if you could?" she whispered, sounding tentative. "Being a wolf, I mean. Would you choose to be human?"

Paul didn't have to think too much. That was a question that all the boys asked themselves after a while of being a wolf, when the perks began to sound less and less interesting and the cost started to make itself known.

"In a heartbeat."

Feeling his mental barriers snapping into place after the confession, Paul turned and got out of the car, moving towards the gym without waiting for her to follow him. She would follow; he had no doubts. For now, though, he needed to get changed and step into the mat.

He had a class to fucking teach and no time to feel like crying.


	8. Fighting Myself

**Author's Note: Bitches, I'm back with this piping hot new chapter. Hope y'all like it!**

 **Warning: feelings ahead. Don't say I didn't warn you.**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not the owner of anything. If anything, I'm sure Meyer would not approve of all the dirty things I have planned for her lovely characters.**

* * *

It wasn't an easy fight.

The massive black wolf pounced with the type of expertise that could only be achieved with time, legs bent and sharp eyes. He had the undisputable advantage of level-headedness — seeing as Paul was the instigator and furious part in their brawl — which forced Paul to use twice as much force behind his attacks, although he couldn't find it in himself to care too much. He was beyond pissed and Sam was the perfect target for his aggression. Fighting someone who was inside your head was something Paul couldn't get used to, no matter how often it happened to him. It was almost like punching and being punched at the same time; like thinking about a move and seeing your body preparing itself for the stance; like watching the whole thing from an outsider perspective and wondering what exactly was going on. It was insane. Madness.

There he was, trying to protect his thoughts while bitting a chunk of Sam's middle so that his alpha couldn't see past his anger, but at the same time, knowing that it was an impossible task. There was no real privacy — not even a credible illusion of it. After years of being a pack member, Paul knew how useless his efforts would be. And yet, somehow, he couldn't find it in himself to give in. To give up.

Perhaps Sam did know why Paul was fuming at the world, or why it was so easy to direct such anger to him as opposed to anybody else; however, if he chose to acknowledge that, if he did not keep up the pretense of holding on to a superficial hate, then things were bound to get deep. Emotional. And Paul tried as had as possible to evade deeper conversation.

Slowly, as if it were running through mud, the nagging question began to emerge into his mind: why was Sam entertaining him? As an alpha, he could end the fight with a single command that Paul would have no choice but to obey. Not only that, but Sam wasn't a particularly violent individual — he was much more inclined to talk and listen than to exchange punches and bites. There wasn't a rational reasoning for him to be rolling around the woods with Paul, getting more hurt by the minute.

 _'Perhaps that's the way I found to talk to you,'_ his alpha thoughts responded to his internal questions instantly, almost instinctively.

 _'Fuck off,'_ Paul responded; glad to be in a perfect position to give him an answering shove that pushed him a few meters away.

He could feel Sam's self-satisfaction at being proven correct by his answer — Paul did answer better to physical acts than he ever did to words. As the pack's alpha, it was Sam's duty to know each and every member and the way they worked — it would be impossible to coordinate them otherwise.

It irked Paul to be so predictable, but it wasn't like he could change the way he functioned just to annoy Sam. Besides, he was too busy to care about any of that; or, at least, that's what he told himself. He also strongly considered shifting back only to punch Sam's smug face.

 _'I know you're angry that we didn't catch the leech,'_ Sam cut through his thoughts. _'You know I want to kill her, but I cannot put the pack in danger to do so faster. As the alpha, my priority is the pack — always.'_

 _'Your priority should be to protect the people in these lands. We heal,'_ Paul protested, feeling his anger resurge harder as he finally allowed the thoughts to run freely around his head.

 _'We can't heal from death.'_

 _'It was one leech, for fuck's_ _sake. One fucking leech, Sam! There were enough of you to catch her if you had done your goddamn job properly.'_

 _'We believe she has a gift for evasion, Paul. The way she toes the border… it's almost as if she knows they are there. She jumped into the water when we got too close — you've seen it.'_

 _'I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!'_ he lost it, jumping on top of his alpha and growling loudly. _'Bella is in danger as long as that bitch is still alive. I trusted you to lead the pack to her and get the job done, these apologies mean nothing.'_

 _'I'm not apologizing. I did what I had to do to protect the pack,'_ he explained calmly, not submitting but not moving to shake Paul off him either. It was a show of control on his part — he either trusted his abilities enough to be able to protect himself even if Paul did decide to attack him or didn't believe Paul to be capable of challenging his dominance. _'Bella is an imprint_ — _I'll do whatever I can to protect her, Paul, even lay my life for her if necessary, but I won't put the whole pack in danger just to kill a leech faster. That's my decision as the alpha.'_

 _'Bella could be killed. Bella could die. Bella could get hurt. Bella could leave him.'_ The thoughts went through his mind quickly in succession, leaving Paul dizzy as he considered the possibility of losing his mate. He wouldn't be able to stand that. Losing Bella would be too much.

 _'She's not going to die,'_ Sam interrupted his cycle of despair, nudging his muzzle with his in a surprisingly affectionate act. _'Bella is alive and she's not going anywhere. We'll catch the leech, Paul.'_

Paul thought about Bella. It was difficult not to feel unbalanced with her around — it didn't even matter if she was physically near or not, her mere existence was what shifted all of his previous paradigms. She was the owner of all the scenarios running through his mind.

It had been almost a week since he had had the brilliant idea of taking Bella to watch his class while the boys went after the bloodsucker. Having his mate there, watching his every move as he taught a whole class how to fight was an experience Paul hadn't been ready for. He had wanted to drop the persona of the serious teacher and fight every person in the room just to establish his dominance to her; he had wanted her eyes to stay glued to him — and only him; he had wanted to shield her from the appreciative looks of the men in his class; he had wanted to look good for her. Since when did Paul feel insecure when it came to his body?

The urge to whine was huge. Sam's words alongside his own confusing feelings left Paul feeling raw inside in a way that was still so damn new to him. Since the day he had laid his eyes on Bella Swan, Paul's life had become a roller-coaster of feelings, where one day he would be fine and the next he would be on top of Sam, fighting off the urge to whine and accept comfort like a pup.

Before he could act on those urges, Paul got off of Sam, pacing around in circles as he tried to calm himself down enough to go inside the house, where he could hear his mate talking to the boys quietly. Thankfully, she came alone, straight from Forks, thinking Jake would be at Emily's house already. Paul didn't need any more annoyances in his life at the moment.

 _'Go,'_ Sam suggested — not ordered. _'Go see Bella. You'll feel much better once you do so.'_

Paul wanted to but at the same time…

 _'You know, fighting the imprint is a terrible choice,'_ his alpha added, after a moment of silence.

 _'I'm sick and tired of people telling me how to handle the imprint. It's my imprint; I'll handle it.'_

 _'You've seen the imprints happening around you, Paul, and you've also seen how useless it is to pretend to ignore it. This is for life — it won't go away.'_

 _'I've seen Jared and Kim, who both jumped into bed as soon as Jared finally learned she existed, and Quil with his infant. That's it.'_ Paul said, quite bitter.

 _'Well, there's Emily and me.'_

 _'When I shifted you were together already,'_ Paul protested, even though it was a crappy ass excuse and he was aware of it. He had seen the whole dark story of Sam's bond going through his mind a couple of times — when his walls had been down for a reason or the other. Even if he had lived it alongside his alpha, he wouldn't have been able to understand his pain as thoroughly as he did by being inside his mind.

 _'I was a fool, trying to fight the bond for as long as I did,'_ Sam admitted, his thoughts tinged with the same old sadness it always had when the subject was his early imprint. _'I should've just explained to Emily what it meant to be part of an imprint earlier… maybe shifted in front of her or something. Anything other than the groveling I did at her door in hopes she would notice me the ordinary way.'_

 _'You were her cousin's fiancée,'_ Paul tried to joke, but the words fell flat as he choked a little with the feelings bleeding from Sam.

 _'Ex fiancée,'_ he corrected bitterly. _'I'm not saying she didn't have the motives to hate me — she did. And by trying to respect and protect her I only succeeded in hurting her beyond my wildest imagination. Emily could've left me — should've left me, perhaps – but somehow she chose to stay, and I couldn't be more grateful to her than I am, but I also know that she wishes I had done things differently. I had no one to teach me, no one to tell me how it should be done, it was all terribly confusing and overwhelming… being a wolf, ending a relationship, falling in love, imprinting.'_

It was all showing: the pain, the rejection, the fear, the confusion, the anger, the shift, the pain, the blood, the scars…

 _'Please, stop,'_ Paul pleaded, closing his eyes in hopes that it would also stop the flow of images running through his mind. Sam's pain and regret were a never-ending pit where one could get lost for eternity if they didn't have a strong enough line connecting them to the tangible world. And even though Paul did, indeed, have a titanium line connecting him, it was still more than he was prepared to bear when he already carried all the weight from his own unresolved bond.

Like a switch, Sam's walls went up instantly, protecting Paul's mind from the darkness of his memories and guilt. Paul breathed deeply — as if tasting the clean air for the first time.

 _'I'm sorry,'_ Sam sounded more than a little broken. _'I hadn't meant to… It wasn't my intention to show so much.'_

 _'How can you live with yourself?_ ' Paul wondered.

 _'Emily wants me still, she needs me. I couldn't leave her even if I wanted to,'_ he explained. _'That's what I'm trying to tell you: It's not about you. Forget about being in charge and focus on Bella. Your life will only be miserable if you keep trying to decide for her without actually telling her anything.'_

 _'Jacob-'_

 _'Jacob's feelings will begin to fade with time; it's useless to deny it. He already knows it, even though he's being an idiot about the whole thing. You're using him as an excuse to keep your distance, but it won't help for much longer — the sooner you realize it, the better.'_

Had Paul been using Jacob's feelings for Bella as an excuse to avoid spending more time with her? Was it easier to pretend Jacob would be able to make her happy than to face his own demons and try to step up and be the one to make her happy?

 _'Go be with your mate, Paul. I'll wait for my gashes to close before going in.'_

Paul finally noticed the damage he had done to Sam's form. Blood was running from more than one place in his body, and his shoulders looked somewhat bent to the side. He had lost it bad.

 _'Sam, I-'_

 _'Forget about it,'_ he interrupted, although the feeling leaked through the bond nevertheless. _'It's how you operate, we all know it. I'll be fine in a couple of minutes. Don't tell Emily about it and we'll be cool.'_

Paul smiled a wolf grin. That he could do.

 _'Fine,'_ he agreed, preparing himself to shift back. _'Not promising anything about the food, though, so hurry the fuck up.'_

 _'It's okay,'_ he confessed. _'Emily always keeps some for me.'_

It was sick, but the confession made Paul's ache for someone who would do the same for him.

* * *

When Paul entered the room, he realized his mate had all the boys hooked in a conversation about the pack. They all turned to look at him as he walked into the room, instantly going to sit in the empty chair beside Bella, leaning close to her.

"Look who graced us with his presence," Embry mocked.

"The furry Hulk himself," Quil added, like the asshole he was.

He ignored them all, only watching his mate with attention — still burning from his previous conversation with Sam and needing to be connected to his imprint.

"Best part of being a wolf," Bella asked him, smiling in anticipation. Resting her chin on her hand, she looked like the picture of the attentive listener.

"Easy, the speed," his brother began, opening his arms to welcome Kim into his lap when she came back with a huge platter of sandwiches.

Paul wasted no time and grabbed two before the boys devoured them all. He paused to give one to Bella, shoving the thing into her surprised hands and giving her a stern look as an incentive for her to eat it. When she tried to give it back, Paul turned away and promptly ignored her.

"The strength," he took the chance to answer before busying his mouth with food.

"No way, Jared's right in this one, man, it's the speed," Embry said with his mouth around the sandwich in a frankly disgusting manner.

"Ugh, that's gross," Kim said, frowning her nose in disgust.

Embry shrugged, not fazed by the reproof written in Emily's face as she also moved to sit on the table. Like Kim, she arranged a big plate of food on the table before getting comfortable.

"Getting hot is not so bad," Quil leered, flexing his bicep.

"You're still an ugly ass," Embry deadpanned. "Good try, though."

"Like you're one to say. You goddamn ugly vase."

"At least I'm not still a goddamn virgin," Embry teased, raising his eyebrows.

Paul didn't bother holding back the laughter as Quil stuttered in protest.

"It's so unfair that such gorgeousness is wasted in idiots like you," Kim complained, shaking her head in fake disappointment. "What I wouldn't do with those muscles..."

"What would you do? Lazy even harder on the couch as you watch Netflix?" Jared questioned incredulous, poking her ribs.

Kim narrowed her eyes in betrayal.

"You-"

"Drag your feet even more as you get up to grab ice cream?"

"I'll have you know-"

"Procrastinate two times as much to get up from the bed in the mornings?"

"You are a horrible human being," she proclaimed, trying to get up from his lap but failing to escape from his tight grip around her middle.

"Yet you love me. What does that say about you, my love?"

"Pretty sure she hit her head quite hard as a child," Paul said. "It would explain quite a lot."

"Oh, shut up, you asshole," she complained, pouting at Jared. "See what you did?"

Jared instantly turned to face him with a serious look, "Don't mock her. Only I can do that."

"Not really what I was going for, but I'll take it," Kim laughed as Paul rolled his eyes at his brother.

"Man, you're pathetic," Paul proclaimed, leaning forward to grab Quil's sandwich from his hands as the fucker paid attention to their banter.

Paul figured it was only fair he stole from Quil of all people. He was more annoying than any of the others, with his constant bad porn stash and lazy dirty jokes.

"Give me back my sandwich!" he demanded, squeaking in surprise. "I mean it, man, if you don't I'll sell your firstborn. Don't try me."

Paul heard Bella's quiet laughter beside him and decided to tease his pack mate a little longer — if only to draw out more of those sounds from her. It was so rare to see his mate allowing herself to enjoy the moment without it being ruined by some memory from the disgusting leeches.

"You're going to sell my kid over a sandwich? That's just not right," Paul said, shaking his head before taking a slow bite of the bread next to his mouth. "Where's the brotherhood, bro?

"No!" Quil cried. "Clearly you lack boundaries, so I must use the weapons I have. Now give it back."

Taking pity on the guy, Paul decided to give it back. Not before he pretended to throw it at him, though. It was only fair to tease him a little more — Quil certainly deserved it.

"You're trying my patience, Lahote."

"Can we go back to my question?" Bella asked, in between bites of her own sandwich. Paul kept checking to see how much of it she would eat. How much was enough to feed a girl as small as Bella?

"Ohh, bossy. Good luck, Paul," Quil teased, instantly making Paul regret being fair to him before. Making that type of joke in front of Bella was a big sick move even for him.

Paul glared at the idiot, not turning to meet the questioning stare Bella sure had aimed his way. He wasn't ignoring her, just refusing to explain, but damn if the bond didn't tug a little harder in punishment straight away. It wasn't nearly enough to change his mind but paired with his need to give Bella anything she wanted, it made his head spin a little at the feeling.

"Shut up, you inbred fucker."

"I don't get what more can be said about it. I've already said that the best part is the looks — and if one of the boys pretends it's anything other than the easiness of getting laid, they're lying." Quil continued, ignoring the murderous looks Paul kept throwing his way but scooting his chair a little further away nevertheless as he stretched his body.

"Not everyone was an ugly motherfucker before the change, Quil. Some of us actually got pussy without the added help."

"I'm sure you were attractive before, honey; don't pay attention to what Embry says, he's just a mean little man," Emily cooed, rubbing his arm in comfort.

She should've known better than to think one could shake Quil's self-confidence so easily.

"Nothing little about me, babe," He said, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

"Sam will burst your ass," Jared warned.

Paul took the opportunity to kick the leg of his chair with enough force to knock it down, forcing Quil to jump back as to not fall on his ass on the floor.

"Hey!" Emily called out, pursing her lips in reproof at Embry's uncontrolled laughter. "I'll kick you out of my house, I mean it. I've already said that I don't want none of that in my kitchen — last week you guys broke my ceramic bowl."

"Goddamn ugly bowl anyway," Embry whispered.

"What did you say?" Emily asked, deceivingly calm.

"Me? Nothing, nothing," he quickly denied, shying away at Emily's unusual serious expression. Paul didn't blame him — Emily was weird with her kitchen stuff.

"Okay, but what about the mental bond you guys share? How does that work?" his mate tried again, making Paul wonder what was it that made her so curious about the pack.

"What about it?" he asked, ready to give her an answer but unsure about the best way to do so.

"It's shit," Quil summed up.

"Yes, it's shit, especially when you have to share it with an idiot like Quil," Paul confirmed, smirking at the asshole.

"Well, now I'm gonna have to defend my buddy here. His porn is top shit," Embry said, shrugging at Paul's incredulous stare. He had to be fucking with them.

"Oh, shut up Embry. No one can stand Quil's fucked up kinks anymore. And that thing with the car wasn't such a big deal, grow up," he said, grabbing a cookie and eating it in a single perfect bite.

"What do you mean, it wasn't a big deal? It was epic! Man, that girl opened her legs almost one-hundred and eighty-"

"So what? Some girls so that and it's not that big of a deal-"

"Not that big of a deal? Are you kidding-" The kid cried out in protest, waving his arms in demonstration like an idiot.

"Guys, not this again," Kim pleaded, sighing in defeat.

"-me? It was amazing! I could almost see-"

Emily groaned heavily in her seat.

"Whatever, man," Paul dismissed, not willing to continue that conversation any longer. It was enough that he was forced to see it every time he shifted with Quil, he shouldn't have to suffer through discussions of it when he was in human form.

Paul saw Bella's puzzled face and had to contain a laugh from bursting from his lips. Apparently, baby Jake was shielding Bella from the pack's dynamics, so, instead, she got the full-on crash course with them.

"They sometimes forget that not everyone knows what they're talking about all the time," Kim explained, beyond used to all of it.

Jared shrugged in response, looking unrepentant about the whole business.

"It's weird," he admitted. "We get so used to knowing each other's thoughts that it gets irrelevant to repeat or explain some things."

"You really hear all that the others are thinking?" Bella asked, holding Paul's gaze in hers.

"We don't hear; we see," Paul explained, trying not to wince at how creepy it sounded. "Our minds become a collective thing. We see what the others are seeing and go through their thoughts as if it was our own. Sam has a little more autonomy, as the alpha, but the rest of us are afforded very little privacy."

She seemed contemplative at that, her eyes wandering behind his head as she digested his words.

"I can see how that would be complicated sometimes," was all she said.

"You have no idea," Paul stated darkly, forcing himself not to glare at her as his thoughts began to wander away to his personal life, which he still struggled so damn hard to hide from the others.

When her eyes connected with his once again, Paul had to force himself not to react to the amount of compassion swimming in those perfect chocolate eyes. She seemed to understand all he wanted to say, even though it wasn't clear in his own mind what he could ever say to her in order for her to grasp the big ol' mess that was his life.

Deciding that maybe he should be focusing more on the actions and less on the words, he said:

"There are some good parts. Wanna see?"

* * *

 **AN2: Don't forget to leave a review! Xoxo**


	9. Repressed Desire

**Author's Note: Why, hello you there. Here I am, late again with this chapter. I've decided to quit trying to decide where to go with this story, honestly. Every time I thought I was done with this, some plot would happen and words were pouring out. It's a struggle, I'll tell you.**

 **Disclaimer: Not mine. Nope. Nyet.**

* * *

"So, how you wanna do this?" Paul asked. "We can take your car or my bike."

Or... there was another option, actually. One that, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He would never offer it to anybody else — had never done it before — but he'd seen Kim and Jared do it before and... and maybe he kind of wanted it with Bella, too.

"Or I can give you a faster ride." There, he offered. No taking it back.

"A ride?" Bella wondered; mouth opened in shock. She understood then. Good. "Like- you mean your-"

"Yeah, sure," he agreed, trying not to make a big deal out of it. No reason to tell her she would be the first and only person he ever suggested to mount on him like a horse.

He could see her excitement at the suggestion, and for a minute there, he thought she would take that pick, but it faded away into a look of uncertainty just as fast.

"I'm cool with whatever you think it's best," she responded, instead.

Fuck no.

"Are you answering that because you really don't care whichever way or because that's what you think I wanna hear?"

And there it was, the shame. If those bloodsuckers ever came back, Paul would kill them. One by one. Slowly. Painfully.

"No- I," she began rapidly, but when he raised an eyebrow in disbelief, she took a deep breath and backtracked. "You. Please."

Paul froze his expression the way it was with a force of will he hadn't known to possess to prevent the smoldering look of desire he knew should be gracing his features at the moment from making its appearance. Those words. God, how he could imagine her saying them in a hundred scenarios, all of which would involve different levels of nudity.

"Alright, then," he breathed in agreement, only when he was sure his voice would not crack. "Look, just, just hold tight, alright? Don't be fucking afraid of hurting me or some shit like that."

Paul needed to make sure she understood how important the message was, yet was unsure how to properly instruct her. How could he tell her what to do when he had no idea how any of it was supposed to go?

"Once I shift we won't be able to communicate so easily, but if you decide you don't want to do this anymore just... just say so."

Instead of worried, though, Bella looked amused at his words, and as he kept speaking, a smile started to blossom on her face.

"Paul, are you nervous?" She asked, somewhat cheeky.

"I'm serious, goddamit," Paul cursed, frustrated. "I'll be going fast, and okay, maybe it is a short way 'till there, but something could still happen. You have to pay attention to the movement; when I turn, don't fight it, alright? Kind of like the bike, you just have-"

"Hey, hey!" Bella interrupted, stepping closer to him while still fighting the smile on her face. "I'll be fine. Honestly, I wasn't aware you were the fretting type."

Fretting type? Was she kidding?

"I'm not-"

"You kinda are, though," she insisted. "What's the deal here? If you don't want to, we don't have to do it."

Of course he wanted to, wanted her to be the one doing those things with him. He just hadn't realized how much the thought of seeing her shy away in fear of his wolf form turned his stomach. It wasn't rational. Bella had every reason to be afraid of all supernatural creatures, and Paul _had_ lunged for her the very first time they met, and still, he hoped she would see him for something other than an enormous beast who had the power to greatly harm her.

"No, no, that's not it," he said, running his hand through his hair and deciding to go for it. Bella would react the way she would react, stalling would do nothing. "Just give me a second, I'll go shift. Do not move."

"I'll wait here," she agreed, sounding excited once again.

Good. Maybe that was a good sign.

Paul chose the nearest tree to hide as he hurried to get off his short, tying it around his ankle and taking several deep breaths to focus. Usually shifting was too easy for him — easier than it was for any of the others — but with his mate so damn close... it took a few tries before he erupted into his other form.

Knowing better than to run towards her, Paul took his time turning around and heading her way. It was impossible to look non-threatening when you were a gigantic wolf; however, it couldn't hurt to go extra slow.

When he finally locked eyes with her, he saw none of the fear he had been dreading but mentally preparing himself for. In its place were several emotions Paul hadn't dared to hope for: excitement, curiosity, surprise, and the very best of 'em all, wonder. Seemingly unconsciously, she raised her arm to reach for him, almost as if to check that he was real. Paul could do little else but to lower his head and allow the touch.

"Wow, this is, wow," Bella said in a hurried whisper. "God, it never ceases to be amazing."

Her hands touching his fur felt different than when she touched him in human form. Now he was much more sensitive to it, more... just more.

"Your fur is so soft," she carried on. "This is so unfair. I bet you do absolutely nothing at all to care for it."

Paul almost laughed at that. She could be so random at times.

"You'll have to give me a little help if you expect me to go up there. I don't know how you've done this in the past, but I certainly cannot jump that high."

Right, other times. Yeah, he probably should come clean about that with her later on. No use having her thinking he did that with a bunch of random people — although it was a somewhat puzzling thought. Who did she think he did that with?

Paul lowered his body until he was laying on the ground, trying to make it as simple for her as he could. Still, he watched her carefully. He knew Isabella Swan's record; anything could result in an injury where she was concerned. He watched as she stopped for a moment to consider how to best do it; he watched as she shrugged and just grabbed his fur and went for it; he watched as she struggled to swing her left leg to the other side of his body; he watched as she cursed under her breath; and finally, he felt as she went behind him and sat down completely.

"I'm good," she said, holding him with both hands. "I'm good. Let's go."

Alright, someone was eager. Far it be from Paul to deny his mate of anything she desired, so he pushed himself up from the ground, adjusting his balance to accommodate the foreign weight on his back. It was strange, having someone on top of him while in wolf form, but not unpleasant. Bella hardly weighed anything at all, and the way she gripped him harder when the movement shook her body was definitely an unexpected bonus.

"Oh, okay, that's weird. Don't go too fast, will you, I want to keep my eyes open."

 _Okay_ , Paul thought, _let's do this._

* * *

"This is a pretty high cliff," Bella stated, and Paul could easily see she was trying to sound braver than she felt.

She was right; it was a damn high cliff. Being so high was the reason Paul liked it as much as he did — if he stood at the edge of the rock in just the right position, he could nearly imagine how flying must feel. The whole world beneath your body. He also loved to jump. The smaller cliffs the kids around the res insisted on jumping from were barely high enough to be worth the effort to get there. No, this was what Paul needed when his thoughts refused to settle and his temper threatened to overwhelm his entire being.

Sure, from time to time, he went there with the pack to chill and jump, and it could be great fun with them, too, but he mostly came alone to watch the sunset and organize his ideas. Having Bella there, examining the — his — cliff with a half excited and half terrified expression painted quite the impactful picture, and Paul knew without a shadow of a doubt that her face would flash in his mind whenever he went there in the future.

For a second, it was terrifying. She had walked around his house, Emily's place, Jacob's, his goddamn job, and now this, his favorite place. Bella had officially taken over his entire life without any true effort on her part. What if she decided to fucking leave La Push — Forks — behind and Paul was left with nothing but a sack of places he would never have peace in again?

"Do you actually jump from here?" She asked, probably forgetting that Paul was still in his wolf form and would be unable to give her any type of spoken answer.

After a few heartbeats, in which Paul carried on trying to control his all-over-the-place emotions, she seemed to notice the lack of response and turned to face him, only then remembering that he had yet to shift back.

"Oh, I forgot," Bella said softly, shaking her head and smiling to herself — as if exasperated by her own forgetfulness. "Well, do you jump from here?" She repeated the question, this time looking him in the eyes and waiting for an answer — apparently unbothered by his status as an overgrown wolf. An overgrown wolf who once pounced at her with what she could only assume was aggression. Yet there she was, calmly waiting for him to keep a conversation going between them, despite the form he took.

The burning feelings took hold of his chest once again, and Paul, unable to do anything but, bobbled his big head up and down — hoping she got that yes, he did jump from there and yes, he liked it a whole lot.

She must have got it because her tiny smile turned to an impressed blown out all-over-her-face smile.

Damn, if Bella ever left Paul would have absolutely no chance of an existence any longer. There was just no chance.

"Uhhh," she whistled. "That's kind of amazing, to be honest."

It was too much; Paul needed his speech ability ASAP. Enough was enough. He turned and went towards the nearest tree, needing to shift back but still having some sense left in him that argued against doing so in from of her.

"Okay then, I'll just wait here for you. You rude dog!" Bella called, showing more sass at that moment than all other times Paul had seen her combined. He liked it.

In a flash, Paul shifted and dragged his short up his legs, already turning back to his mate as he closed the zipper and popped the button. Having her out of his sight was a huge no-no now.

"Rude dog?" He dared, eyebrow raised as he walked back to where he left her. In the back of his mind, Paul noticed that she hadn't as much as moved an inch in the two minutes it took him to shift. She was still turned to him, exactly like before.

"You did just abandon me here for a flash."

"Dramatic much? I simply thought you weren't ready for the amazingness that is the sign of my naked body."

Surprisingly, all she did was roll her eyes in good humor. Paul was uncertain if he should be offended by that or not.

"Come here," she commanded, pointing to where she meant. "Is that a-"

"Yeah," he agreed, looking at the strip of sand below. "But the only way to get there is by jumping."

"That's a pretty high cliff..." She repeated. "Let's be honest here, how likely is it that I'll die if I jump?"

"Not gonna lie, it wouldn't kill you, but it would hurt a whole lot," Paul admitted, standing next to her to watch the sea. "Why? You thinking of jumping?"

"Isn't that why you brought me here?"

"Yep," he popped the word out. "To jump. With me."

Her expression instantly turned mischievous. "Well, perhaps I would like to do it without a strong man to hold my hand."

Oh, little Bella. You chose the wrong man to tease.

"Is that so?" He said, turning to face her completely. "Well, wish granted."

He waited just long enough for the comprehension to flash on her eyes and panic to start settling in before he stretched his arms and pushed her off the cliff. It was a free fall, Bella began to scream, and it was impossible to know if it was in fear, surprise, elation, adrenaline, or something else. It didn't matter, Paul jumped after his mate, knowing his weight would push him down faster and counting on it.

It had been a risky move, sure, but Paul lived for the rush of adrenaline and frankly, she had almost dared him to do it. It was okay; he wouldn't miss. Knowing his mate would get hurt if he did miss was a surprisingly compelling incentive. He angled his body in her direction and grabbed. The water was getting close and Paul was ready — Bella's body was cocooned in his, fully secured, although she still screamed.

"Deep breath," he screamed back, praying she had the mind to listen to his command even in her panic.

They hit the cold water, Paul's body breaking the impact first, going under quite a few meters before he was able to begin swimming up. Being a wolf, it was almost too easy. There was no confusion, no difficulty, he knew exactly towards where he needed to swim and even the sea offered little resistance against his force. Bella was struggling against his hold, though, and it was no little feat to swim while trying to hold her close without hurting her or worsening her panic.

When they reached the surface, she gasped for breath like a dying fish, arms flailing ridiculously as she fought against nonexistence resistance.

"Relax," he said, giving her a few seconds to calm down before he began to make his way to the sand. "I'm not letting you go."

The second she stepped onto firm land, she shook him off, stumbling out of the water on her own.

"You asshole," she spluttered, dripping wet and shaking with cold. "You gigantic asshole."

"Rude," he sing-songed, a grin plastered on his face. "Wet is a good look on you, though."

When she only glared harder, Paul added, "Don't need to try and pretend to be mad."

"Pretend? Are you even being serious right now? You just threw me off a cliff into the coldest damn water, with my clothes on."

"You'd have preferred I'd taken them off first?" Paul couldn't help himself, with such an opening. But it was tentative, always so fucking tentative with her.

Bella blushed. Of course she did, it was Bella and that was her thing. Still... it made her skin flush and delicious — a true temptation if there was ever one. With her clothes clinging to her body and a fire burning behind her eyes, Paul could hardly pretend to feel anything other than desire. He was sure it was stamped on his face too, no doubts.

"Shut up," she said weakly. Hardly a serious protest. "You are such a jerk."

"Never said I wasn't, babe."

Slipping. Paul was slipping so fast.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," Bella joked, but she was sliding her eyes down and it didn't sound like a joke. Paul wished he could be bothered to lie to her.

"I don't," was what he said, face completely serious.

It was ridiculous to show so much of his hand when she had yet to show any sign of attraction toward him beyond the usual appreciation all girls seemed to naturally have for any of the pack. But there he went, saying more than he ought to once more. It was a terrible habit he appeared to have whenever Bella was concerned.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked, still not looking him in the eyes and Paul tried to gauge how she was feeling despite the lack of clues.

"I guess."

"Why did you bring me here?" Bella began, finally raising her eyes and allowing him to see the curiosity, the confusion, shining on them.

"You know why. I wanted you to see the good bits of being a wolf."

"Don't give me that," she rejected, with a flash of anger. "Why are you doing this with me? Jake says you never take time to make friends or see people, yet here you are, teaching me to ride a bike, and giving me sandwiches, and allowing me to mount on you in your wolf form..."

Paul's breath caught in his throat as he tried to come up with a plausible enough answer to satisfy her without giving too much away. It was far too soon for her to know, she wasn't ready. He wasn't ready. And yet... the bond.

"I find you interesting." Paul went with that, although it was such a small part of the truth that it almost felt like a lie on his tongue. "Not a lot of people catch my interest."

And there, there, after all those days Paul had been waiting without realizing what for, Bella gave him what he needed. The smell of arousal coated the air, an intoxicating small that stirred something deep within him that felt almost scary for being so good. He wanted to growl, and rumble, and purr, and kiss, and touch, and feel, and lick, and all that she would allow him to do.

Until that moment, Paul hadn't noticed how much he needed to know that she wanted him that way. That it was a possibility for them.

He was so lost in his discovery that he almost missed her question. As it was, it took a minute to process what she was asking.

"Why here?" Bella asked, curling up on herself to try to get some heat back inside her body.

Paul wanted to answer, he did, but hadn't he bared enough as it was? He had taken her there with him, which in itself was already more than he would've thought himself capable of, so if she wanted more out of him, than she would have to give something.

"You first," he said, not surprised when she seemed to understand what he meant with no further explanation. For once, the damn bond was working in his favor.

"I hate school," Bella began, twisting he nose in contempt. Then, before Paul could comment on that, she laughed. "God, I sound like such a teenager saying that. I don't hate school. I'm just-"

"Ready for the next step?" Paul filled the gap after he watched he struggled for a couple of minutes.

"Yeah," she breathed, sending a grateful smile his way. "I mean, I have no idea what the next step will be for me, but there must be something more than going to Forks high-school and trying to avoid the people there like the plague."

Curious, Paul couldn't not ask. "Why are you avoiding everyone?"

"Are you kidding? Ever since- I mean, since-," she stuttered, twisting her hands in a nervous gesture, before taking a deep breath. "Since they left, I became the freak who mingled with royalty and got cast behind. They either gasp at me like an animal on the zoo or they give me a wide berth, as though I have some kind of infectious disease."

God, those fucking bloodsuckers were so goddamn dead the minute they stepped back into Forks. There wouldn't be enough to build a fire when Paul was done with them.

"No one normal?" He tried, not able to believe there wasn't a single decent human being in that school.

She grimaced. "There's Angela and Jess, but I... well, let's just say I burned those bridges."

Ah, self-destructiveness was not an unfamiliar concept for Paul.

"I came here before the change," he said. "Couldn't jump, of course, but I used to sit up top and plan different ways in which I could get here with some supplies to just... live here."

"Live here?" She wondered, looking around at the small strip of land surrounding them. "Not the most fancy of places."

He shrugged. "Wasn't looking for nothing fancy. I just wanted to get the fuck away from my house."

"Paul."

The way his mate breathed his name out, as she looked at him with immeasurable amounts of compassion swimming in those gorgeous eyes of her, slammed down all sorts of playful comments he had ready to use in those kinds of situation. Instead of the defense-mechanism-through-sarcasm thing he usually did, Paul winced a little, saddened by his own sad childhood.

"Ended up becoming a routine to come here," he said, instead. "I watched countless of sunrises from the cliff, wondering how it would feel to sit here, hidden from the rest of the world."

There were so many openings there for her to take, so many ways in which she could dig. Her question, when it came, was nothing of what he had imagined.

"Ana?"

"Ana did what she could," Paul said, and couldn't hold back a small smile as he spoke about her. "She's an amazing woman. Raised Jared on her own since birth, and still took me in without a second thought when my father was arrested. Stormed into the police station and demanded they released me into her care — wouldn't shut up about it until they did, too."

"She seems great," Bella agreed, not without a tingle of admiration on her voice.

"She is. Couldn't have asked for a better person to raise me, actually," Paul said. "She sure did have her hand full between me and Jared, though."

A particularly strong wind passed through, making Bella shiver hard, although he could see she was doing her best to prevent it. She took one good look at him, at his already dry chest, and managed to look so damn wishful he almost cracked a smile.

"You know," Paul began, leaning his torso back to support his weight on his hands. "Repressed desire is a very sad thing to witness."

She blushed a gorgeous shade of pink, her eyes widening with surprise.

"Wh- what? What? I don't-," she sputtered, tripping on the words in her heist to get them out.

Paul had to remind himself that laughing of one's mate was a wrong, wrong thing to do.

"If you want to touch me, then go for it."

"You never allow people to touch you," she pointed out, once again with that look of deep concentration on her face, almost like she was trying to figure him out.

It was a valid point, though. Paul wasn't a big fan of physical contact with people — unless it was about sex or fights. He just couldn't help but shy away from other's touch when he'd seen how quickly a loving and simple touch could transform into a violent, aggressive one. He learned to avoid it, to build the aloof persona that made people hesitant to approach him... but Bella, well, Bella was always the exception, he was quickly realizing.

Seeing her restraining herself with him was the opposite of what he wanted. So, with that in mind, he shrugged.

"I'm allowing you."

It was just his luck that Bella seemed to be in a brave mood and instead of blushing and retreating, like he half expected her to, she breathed deeply a couple of times, almost reading herself, before she raised her hand, closing the space between them with her palm, and moving to rest it directly on his chest, right above where his heart was.

Her touch was light, as if she expected him to flinch away as soon as it connected — which he didn't, of course. No, Paul wanted to shift closer and rest some of his weight on her cool palm, but was too busy desperately trying to still his pounding heart. There was no way she couldn't feel how goddamn hard his heart was beating underneath her hand.

The symphony of their furious hearts beating together flooded his senses, almost blocking all other noises around him. His hot skin felt a thousand times hotter in comparison to her human touch, and it was glorious. Paul stilled his moves completely. He wanted, needed, her to keep touching him for as long as possible.

"Your heart," she whispered, so low Paul wouldn't have heard it was it not for his enhanced senses. "I can feel it."

That was when he realized that she was probably used to touching the bloodsuckers, who, of course, had no beating heart to speak of. That was most likely just as much of a novelty for her as it was for him.

Why wasn't his heart slowing down?

"Can I-," she asked, moving her head and not taking her eyes off her hand currently touching him.

Paul didn't understand what she wanted exactly, but the answer was leaving his mouth all the same.

"Sure," he agreed, once again surprising himself with the responses of his body. His voice had never sounded so raspy before.

If she noticed the difference, however, Bella never mentioned it. On the contrary, almost like in a trance, in slow motion, Bella silently lowered her head and laid it right where her hand had been moments before, her ear pressed against his chest. It had to be an uncomfortable position for her, with her legs still crossed at an appropriate distance away, but Paul would never dare to mention it.

He wanted so badly to wrap his arms around her middle, to rest his chin on top of her head, to breathe the smell of her hair... the only thing holding him back was the fear of spooking her and breaking the moment. Bella was touching him on her own free will, how could he risk it?

Paul took a deep breath, fisting his hands to stop them from moving on their own volition. It was so hard to keep himself from touching his mate when she was so damn close.

"Repressed desire is a very sad thing," Bella mumbled against his skin, her hot breath tingling on his chest hairs.

He stifled a surprised laugh at her boldness, enjoying both the chance to meet sassy Bella and the express permission to touch her too much to dare offend her.

Instead, Paul reached for her, pulling her middle closer to him easily and wrapping his arms around it. For the time being, he would enjoy every second of the chance to have Bella in his arms, anything else could be dealt with later.

* * *

 **AN2: There we go. God, they are so darn cute! This was such a happy chapter to write; hope y'all love it!**


	10. Selfish vs Selflessness

**Author's Note: I'm almost proud of myself for how fast I managed to edit and post this chapter. Almost.**

 **A sweet thanks to everyone who took their time to review the last chapter. Xoxo.**

 **Disclaimer: None of it is my fault. If it were up to me, things would've gone very differently.**

* * *

Paul went in his human form. Against his personal preference. It would've been much simpler to go as a wolf, for once using that fucking stupid mental bond for a useful purpose and eliminating the possibility of being misunderstood. Maybe it would've also been easier to talk about feelings if he was already in his other form — the one that made him feel stronger, untouchable. Yet, despite all his reasoning, Paul stood in front of the door, ready to knock, like a good, functional member of the human society.

It was bullshit, but it was his bullshit to settle.

So he knocked. Ignoring that he could hear Jacob sleeping in his room and ignoring that he could've just as easily entered through the window. He knocked and waited, albeit somewhat impatiently, as Billy wheeled his way from the kitchen, grumbling under his breath about the mess around the house. Paul waited, once more going over the words he had come up with and would not stray from under no circumstances.

"Paul." The greeting was dry, and the man didn't open any space for him to walk inside his house.

"Billy," Paul said, waiting for the question he felt forming on the man's mouth.

"Bella, hun?"

"Bella." Bella. Yeah, Bella.

"Bella is Charlie's little girl," Billy began, frowning. "I never wanted her to get involved in any of this. She's a good kid. When she started seeing that blood-"

Paul tried to hold it in — he did — but speaking of that son of a bitch was not his forte, and after he spent the night hearing his mate moaning in despair as several nightmares plagued her dreams, calling out for that motherfucker, well, the growl escaped way more easily than Paul would ever admit. He lowered his head afterward, though, in an effort to regain whatever little grip he had on his nerves. Billy was an elder — he deserved more respect than that.

Thankfully, he carried on, as if nothing had happened. "Well, boy, I tried to warn her. Girl is stubborn, though. And with Jake... Anyone with a half brain could see he is a fool for her."

God, Paul hadn't been prepared for the awkward conversation to begin right at the door, before he even stepped inside and woke goddamn Jacob up. Yes, everyone could see the boy was a fool for Bella, why did they have to talk about it? No, sure, Paul understood, it was much embarrassing to do it that way. Why not?

"It wasn't meant to be. Taha Aki knows that even after all these years I still don't get why things happen the way they do, sometimes. We cannot argue with fate, Paul. We must simply make the best with what we have."

Speaking with Billy always made Paul feel like a child who had yet to confess his sins. It was an uncomfortable feeling, to say the least. The man had the uncanny ability to speak the exact words needed to make any man or wolf flinch. Which was bullshit — Paul _was_ trying to make the best with what he had.

Billy surprised him when he added, "I guess, what I'm trying to say is, take it easy on the kid, will you? Jake is having a hard time letting go."

He snapped his head back up. "What?"

The man smiled, clearly pleased with himself, rolling his damn chair out of the way. "You boys are such a mess. Samuel sure has his hands full with y'all bullshit, doesn't he?"

"Shut up, old man," Paul said, walking inside while trying to gather his wits back together. "Sam is full of bullshit, too."

"I don't doubt it. Jake is sleeping in his room, as I'm sure you already know — it sure doesn't take a wolf to hear the snores," he snorted, amused at his own damn joke. He turned to look at Paul, a serious look flashing behind his eyes. "Like I said, take it easy on him, alright? He hasn't been sleeping all that great lately."

Who had? With the constant threat of the red-headed bitch hovering over their heads, there was no way any of them got the necessary amount of sleep needed to keep them rested. Paul said nothing. It wasn't like Billy didn't know. Whatever look he had on his face must have convinced the man, though, because his expression cleared once more.

"No fighting inside my house," he added, making motions for Paul to scram. "Go, go."

Happy to escape, Paul walked to Jacob's room, bursting the door open as he got there, inexplicably delighted to see the boy flailing in surprise, arms and legs everywhere. It probably wasn't what Billy had in mind — well, what was done, was done.

"Wake up, sunshine," Paul called, a smile stretched wide open on his face.

"Fuck! Shit, God, Paul, you asshole," the boy cursed, once he saw who was at his door. Lying back down, he rubbed his eyes. "What do you want?"

"To see your gorgeous little face, obviously."

"I swear, Paul, I'll bite your whole face off if you don't disappear in the next five seconds."

"So techy. Honestly, it's like you don't even want to see me."

"I don't," Jake said, his voice muffled by the pillow he had covered his head with. "I really, really don't. Go away."

"Can't," Paul shook his head, even though Jacob couldn't see him. The smile faded from his lips. "We have to talk. It's about Bella."

The hands holding the pillow clenched. "Of course."

"Don't step between my mate and me again," Paul said, wincing internally at how demanding he sounded. So much for a peaceful talk.

"You were shaking," Jacob burst like it was an obvious point, throwing the pillow aside and getting up from his bed. It was the reason Jacob still had so much to grow before he could even think about being half the alpha Sam was — Sam acted; Jacob reacted.

"She's my imprint." It would never not be satisfying to state that. "I cannot hurt her, you inbred dog."

Instead of further angering him, as Paul had expected, his words seemed to deflate the boy like a popped balloon. His shoulders sagged, and he threw his body back down onto the bed.

"Bella was all I had that was mine. Why did you have to imprint on her? You never wanted to imprint," He asked, defeated. "I could be okay with being a fucking wolf — I could. This..."

Paul's first instinct was to backtrack into familiar ground. Fighting was good; fighting was comfortable even. The raw pain in Jake's voice, however, was another matter entirely. He wasn't even wrong — Paul never wished to imprint before Bella. Other than fleeting thoughts he had had on some late nights lying alone on his bed, the idea of a soulmate had never been the goal for him in a way he knew it was for Jacob — or had been, at least. Paul had been there when the boy heard about the whole imprint ordeal, all of them in wolf form as Sam went on and on about the possibilities and responsibilities, and, at the time, Jake's mind had gone straight to Bella and his bottomless-childhood-crush-turned-into-obsession thing for her.

Paul crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the doorway while he thought on what to say. On the one hand, Jacob was still young — oh, so young — and had yet to see the terrible price that came with being a shape-shifter, and Paul could remember being that naïve and young, thinking all the bad things that happened were the end of his existence; on the other hand, his feelings for Bella were sincere and pure, and Paul could understand all too well what Bella meant and what it would feel like to lose her.

"Isn't it better to know now then it would be to find out after…?" Paul trailed off, unable to finish the question that was hanging from his lips. It was juvenile, but he could hardly think about Bella with another man without feeling the tell-tales of his imminent shift. Better not to risk it.

Jacob shook his head, not moving to get up from his place in his bed. "After what? Am I supposed to believe there's someone out there for me? Be reasonable, we live in La Push, the chances of me meeting my imprint in here is next to none."

"Considering that there's only you and Embry left without an imprint, I'd say it may not be as far-fetched as we once thought."

"Yeah, maybe," he exhaled. "I wanted her, though. I chose her before all this, you know? I would've been different."

Of course he knew. Paul knew all about choices and the lack of them, be that as a wolf or not. Choosing the person you would spend the rest of your life with didn't seem like such an unreasonable request to have, and if his bloodline had been different Jacob could have had Bella without interventions — it was too easy to see that their paths would've crossed — however, as a part of the pack, one was subjected to a vast plethora of personal sacrifices. Jacob was just starting off big.

"Yeah, I know… I'm sorry, kid." And he was. Sorry that Jacob had his sweetheart ripped from him in such a way; that he had to watch her feel more and more drawn to Paul as the days passed; that the bond between them would force Jacob to settle into a platonic relationship with Bella, where he would progressively begin to see her as a sister; that it was beyond their power to do anything about it.

Jacob covered his face with both hands, rubbing it. "Whatever, man. It's not your fault. This is just a real shitty deal. I'll handle — I have to," he said, defeated. It was depressing to watch, and once more Paul wished they could have avoided that entire discussion.

"Bella is—"

"Bella is in a fucked up place. Bella is climbing into stranger's bikes to feel the rush — so don't… don't even start."

"What?" Strangers? Bikes? What had he fucking missed?

* * *

When Paul first began teaching Bella how to ride a motorcycle, he noticed something was wrong almost immediately. Perhaps if he hadn't been a wolf or if he was a little less interested in her, Paul would've let it go — take it as a weird behavior from an equally weird chick. As it was, Bella was his imprint, and Paul wasn't one to let things rest.

He never said anything, but he had noticed. He fucking noticed.

That day, however, had not been the ideal day for them to have another damn lesson. Bella wouldn't know that — not having been on his mind and all that — and Paul was useless at saying no to any request she had, so there they were, at the usual place, riding bikes.

Paul gripped the handle of his own bike slightly more forceful as the scene kept playing over and over in his head. It wasn't as though Jacob had seen Bella climbing into a stranger's bike and riding off into the night with him, but she'd told him the story and Paul imagination was vivid. Extremely vivid.

Something was up, and he was determined to find out what it was, so when she whispered his name under her breath as she sped faster and faster, the answer clicked like a puzzle piece in his mind. Staying in La Push, the bikes, the woods, the cliff... _God_ , the cliff. Bella wasn't an adrenaline junky — of course she bloody wasn't — Paul should've seen it since the start.

Suddenly, his anger was replaced with devastation and resignation. It was the leech. With Bella, it was always the leech.

How stupid Paul had been, thinking he had gained some space in her life, some significance. It was clear she had only ever used him as a means to an end, and he had been eager to comply with all sorts of weird requests from her.

The knowledge hurt more than he thought possible. More than any physical pain he had ever felt in his life, the pain of losing Bella before he ever truly had her was like a knife to the heart. How had he allowed his walls to crumble so quickly for the tiny girl who was finally stopping next to him? How could he have allowed himself to be in that position?

"Is that why you're doing this? To hear the leech's voice?" Paul finally asked, knowing the answer was bound to hurt no matter what.

Bella was clearly shocked to hear the words spoken so candidly to her. Her eyes, her gorgeous brown eyes, were dilated in a mixture of fear and surprise, almost as if she believed her secret would forever remain so even as she whispered his name near a werewolf.

"No-I-"

"Don't lie to me," Paul demanded, although even to his ears his voice sounded defeated.

At that, she looked angry. Bella's eyes narrowed as she focused on his face and surprise gave way to arrogance. When she spoke, it was clear she thought he had betrayed her with his judgmental tone.

"You don't get to judge me, Paul. So what if I want to do this? This is my life, and I'll do with it as I please."

"That's not true," he said, suddenly feeling very old.

"And I suppose you know my feelings better than I do?"

"Yes, I think so. You're not being honest with me, and I think you're not being honest with yourself as well. You want to risk your life, you want to act suicidal, fine, but don't act like it only concerns you."

"It's my life. As you said it, I'm eighteen, I should get to decide what the hell I want to do with myself."

"And that's what you decided to do? Kill yourself in a failed attempt to hear the bloodsucker in your mind? 'Cause I think that's some fucking dumb choice to make for someone who abandoned you in the middle of the damn woods."

"Fuck you, Paul. Fuck you," She spat, burning in anger. "It's my choice."

"God, you are so selfish," Paul said, surprising himself with how much he meant that. Bella was his imprint — he never imagined he could feel so many negative emotions towards her, yet there he was, cringing at her pity party. "Grow the fuck up. Your boyfriend left you; it sucks, fine, but it's not like you're the first person ever to be dumped."

Almost as if he had slapped her, Bella flinched away at his words. Perhaps she, too, was surprised by Paul ability to jump from defeated moron to beyond-angry moron.

"I'm- I'm trying," she admitted, bitterness coloring her still enraged tone. "I'm not selfish — it's my life. I'm not hurting anyone beyond myself."

Did she honestly think that or was Bella that naive?

"Is that so?" he asked, suddenly eager to show her just how wrong she was. If he did that in a purposely hurtful way, well, it would just be another memory Paul would look back and hate himself for in the future — for now, he wanted to see her falling off the pedestal. "If you died Jacob would be crushed, Bella, fucking devastated. You do know he loves you, right? The boy is head over heels for you."

There, he said it. It was obvious, anyway. Bella had to know how Jacob felt about her — despite what she tried to pretend, she could not be that oblivious to the world surrounding her. When he saw the crack in her eyes — the tiny glance at the true depths of her pain - Paul pretended to feel better for it.

"I know," she said, lowering her head as if he had accused her of murder.

But it wasn't enough. No, Paul would dig his grave as deep as he possibly could.

"Then you understand how much he needs you. And your father? Charlie would never recover from your death."

"Charlie was fine before I came here, he would be alright if I were no longer around."

"Every time, Bella. Charlie talks about you every fucking time he comes to La Push. He was nervous for weeks before you moved here, trying to make it all perfect for your arrival. He asked for Jacob to fix the truck for you, bought new things for the house, asked for advice from Sue... That's not how a man who doesn't give a fuck behaves."

He smelled the tears running down her face, even if he couldn't see them but carried on nevertheless. He needed to get the words out, and who knows if he would have the strength to do so if he stopped now.

"What about your mother? Wouldn't she miss you as well?"

"Renée has Phil," she said in a broken cry, almost like she couldn't believe herself.

"From the number of emails you said she sent you during those months, I wouldn't say Phil is all she needs. Perhaps she may not be the mother you wanted, and I get that, but it doesn't mean she loves you any less. She still sends you presents, she still calls, she still cares."

"Shut up. Shut up!"

"No, I won't. You wanna act crazy, fine. But don't play the ignorant girl who has nothing, cause that's not you. I know what it's like to have nothing, you don't."

At that Bella exploded. She lifted her head, tears still running down her face, and glared at him with all the might her tiny body had to offer.

"Why are you here? Why do you even care? You stand there judging my choices like you're some kind of Buddha, but you're not, okay? You're just as fucked up as me."

Her assessment of his character hurt more than Paul would like to admit. He never wanted Bella to see him as a fucked up loser, even though that's how he saw himself most of the time. He tried to be better for her, tried to show her the good side of his dark life.

"Maybe," he admitted, not able to lie to her even then. "But I'm trying, Bella. I'm not judging you, not even for a moment. I want you to do better because I know you can because I believe you deserve better than what you're living now. I see so much potential in you, but you rather throw it all away for the chance to hear the bloodsucker's voice."

Just as quickly as the anger had come, it also went away.

"You don't get it, none of you do. He's all I have. If I let go, if I don't chase it, then he's truly gone."

"He's already gone, Bella. He left months ago, and you risking your life to chase him will not change anything." Paul tried to reason with her. "Edward is gone. He won't come back, it's time you accept that."

The name — _his_ name — seemed to suck the air out of her, leaving Bella grasping for oxygen as she hugged her middle in desperation. Paul wanted to stop, needed to comfort her more than anything else, but something kept him going.

"He was real, he existed, but now he's gone. You're not crazy, you're just hurt."

Bella finally tumbled, like she was about to fall to her knees, but Paul would never let her. He jerked forward and grabbed her by the waist, holding her close while she released a desperate cry. The whine of pain hurt Paul more than he would ever admit, and the breath caught in his throat. It felt right, though. If his mate had to hurt in order to heal, then it was more than right that Paul would suffer right along with her. Bella was not alone, not anymore, not as long as he had blood running through his veins.

"Let it out, Bella. I'm here, I'm right here. I can take it."

His words — his pleading — snapped something in her, because she began to struggle in his hold, hitting his shoulders. Paul refused to let go, however. He tightened his grip, careful not to crush her fragile body.

"I won't let go, baby. I've got you," were his only words.

She hit him and whined, crying hard and loud. It seemed to go on for days, but Paul didn't allow his hold to loosen even for a moment. His imprint needed him, and that made him strong. But after what seemed forever Bella finally relented and went slack in his grip, burying her face in the crook of his neck and wiping her snot in his shirt. Paul waited, patiently holding her upright.

"I don't wanna be alone," she admitted, barely managing to get the words out.

"You'll never be alone," he promised, squeezing her middle and lifting her off the ground for a second.

"I don't mean Jacob or my father. Ed-ed-Edward was my chance at love, at having a relationship... Now I'll be all on my own."

No, she wouldn't. Bella could have anything she ever desired, Paul would make sure of that. Even if it killed him.

"He wasn't your only chance at love. You're young, beautiful, and smart; you'll find your soulmate, baby. That I can guarantee."

And at that moment, Paul felt his heart breaking into pieces as he yielded to the idea of being everything Bella would ever need even though it would destroy his already far too destroyed emotional state. She would never feel anything for Paul — had never felt anything for him other than some misplaced arousal and a suspicion that he would enable her self-destructive tendencies.

That was it. That was the end.

He should've seen it coming.

* * *

 **AN2: Please, don't kill the writer. Please.**


	11. Growing Pains

**Author's Note: I'm on a roll here, you guys! Just kidding, I'm not. I'm going to be traveling for a while, so I took the opportunity to update once more before going away. I hope you like it. There's lots of Jared-being-a-good-bro bonus!**

 **Thank you all for the lovely reviews and comments on the previou** s **chapter.** _*creepy happy smile*_

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm just another soul long lost to fanfiction.**

* * *

 _There she was, beautiful as ever, her hair flowing around as the strong wind crossed the forest once again, shaking the leaves and the branches. It was impossible to understand what she was speaking over the loud noise, making Paul's panic rise more and more as he watched Bella's mouth form several words — crucial words, he knew_ _—_ _and was unable to hear what they were. She needed something. Bella was asking for something, he could tell. But what? What?_

 _He screamed for her, trying to gesture that he couldn't hear what she was saying, but Bella carried on as though she could not see him. He tried to get closer — it was impossible. His feet were glued to the floor. The helpless feeling grew in his stomach_ _—_ _he needed to help his mate, his imprint. Why couldn't he move?_

 _Suddenly, her expression became one of distress, the words flowing out of her mouth even faster as she gestured with her hands to emphasize whatever point she was trying to make. It seemed, however, that the louder she spoke, the stronger the wind howled between them, muffling the words. Paul was a wolf; he should've been able to hear her no matter what. He tried to move with every strength he had, but his feet stayed glued to the ground, unmovable._

 _It was torture. The bond tugged persistently, forcing him to help his mate, and Paul wished nothing more than to do so, no matter how impossible. He was sweating, trembling, shaking._

 _Bella stopped. Her mouth closed and her eyes filled with unshed tears. She looked disappointed; like Paul failed a crucial test he had no idea he had been taking. Despite her obvious pain, there was also agony stamped on her perfect face, twisting her mouth into a mocking frown, perhaps knowing there was where his eyes were going to land. She was angry, furious. Paul had failed, again._

 _At that moment, Paul realized that wasn't the first time they had been there_ _—_ _failing to understand one another. It wasn't the first, but it would be the last because Bella mouthed slowly and clearly 'I hate you', before turning her back and running towards the edge._

 _What? That hadn't been there before. It was now, though, bright and sharp. It was a cliff_ _—_ _and not any cliff, his cliff. It was high, too high for Bella._

 _Paul screamed, and trashed, with all he could, but Bella kept on running closer and closer to the edge, gaining momentum, going for the jump. The bond exploded around his middle_ _—_ _the pain almost too sharp_ _—_ _as he watched his soulmate run towards her death. He knew, deep down, that Bella would not survive the fall, and yet that knowledge didn't freeze the scene playing out in front of him._

 _And she jumped. Open arms, like she was welcoming the arrival of a long-lost friend. Bella jumped, and all the air left his body at once._

With a gasp, Paul woke up. He was sweating and shaking, the air trapped in his swollen throat. It was too much. God, he needed to leave — he was about to shift inside his fucking room.

Paul shoved his sheets aside roughly, one hand holding his stomach as he tried to keep himself from shifting or throwing up while still in the house. The scene kept playing on repeat inside his mind — Bella running, Bella jumping, Bella falling. Fuck. He ran, unconcerned about the noises he was undoubtedly making as he jumped down the stairs, crossed the kitchen, and shoved the back door open. The shaking had gotten so bad at that point that he could hardly feel his body properly. The second his feet touched the soft, wet grass, Paul gave in to his other half, shifting mid-step.

Instantly, he wasn't alone. His mind — his fucked up mind — was bombarded by other people's thoughts. Jared, Embry. Fuck. He couldn't hide the images from his dream — couldn't even pretend to have enough strength to try. They were getting the full-on show of his most personal feelings, and it just added another pinch of salt Paul already felt being rubbed to his old wounds.

' _Shit, man, breathe,_ ' Embry's voice echoed in his mind as he tried to do his best to sound calm, but Paul could hardly heed that command when his throat felt so goddamn tight.

' _She's fine; she's right here. I can hear her heartbeat, Paul. Focus on me for a bit._ ' Trust Jared to be the voice of reason, to know what Paul needed to hear at that moment.

And he did. He focused on Jared's mind, hearing Bella's heartbeat as she slept. She wasn't having a peaceful night, however, which shouldn't come as a surprise, but still frayed his nerves even further. Bella was moaning in her sleep — clearly in pain. She was mumbling random words, and Paul felt his mind spin faster.

The cliff, the jump. The look on her eyes. She hated him, she did.

' _Shit! Paul that's not- It was a dream._ '

' _It was a dream. She's having a nightmare too, but she's alright. She's safe._ '

Only it wasn't just a dream.

* * *

"Stop it!" Ana's sharp command pierced through his fogged mind, and his muscles sized up immediately, his arm frozen mid-punch. "What have you done to yourself now?"

"I'm fine," he forced out, not turning to face her. The last thing he needed was for her to worry about him. More — worry more about him. He wasn't too surprised, however, when she ignored his broody tone — which would be enough to frighten most — and carried on approaching his back. Ana had never been one to back down in the face of a challenge.

"You're bleeding," she stated. "Give me your hands."

And he was, Paul noticed, looking down. His hands were utterly burst, raw muscle exposed and blood running freely past his fingers. It was ugly, he could admit, although busted hands were nothing compared to the many lists of injuries he had faced over the years — and, even now, as he watched his hands, the flesh began to mend back together. It was nothing more than an inconvenience.

Ana wouldn't see it like that. Obviously.

"I'm fine," he repeated, but she was already grabbing his right hand in between hers, cradling it carefully.

"You're stubborn, that's what you are; I've told you that the trees aren't to blame for whatever hurt you." The scolding was a familiar one and was delivered almost fondly — someone who saw a lost battle when it was in front of them, no doubts.

"It looked at me funny," he said, just to watch her try to hold back the grin treating to show up on her face.

"Sure it did," she agreed, raising one hand to touch his face. Ana had never abided by his attempts at keeping his distance from others — not as though she didn't see his painfully constructed walls; more like she knew he would hate to be raised by someone who was afraid of him, who was too fucking tentative. "Perhaps it noticed how you murdered its brothers."

"Better than the alternative."

Shit. As soon as the words slipped past his lips, Paul suppressed a wince at how defensive he sounded. Any chance he had at convincing her he was okay — if there had ever been any — were shot to hell with that. Brilliant.

And sure enough, her brown eyes narrowed sharply, and her hand on his face hated its soothing circle motions.

"Paul," she began softly. "What happened? Talk to me."

"I imprinted," he confessed, unable to lie to her. Not after the past 24 hours.

Both her eyebrows raised in shock. "Who?"

"Isabella Swan." Bella. Always Bella. Shit.

"Jacob's girl?"

His answering growl rang even louder in the otherwise silent woods. Immediately, he gave two steps back, putting distance between them. It hadn't been an angry response — and he would not acknowledge the real emotion behind his possessiveness — but it was better safe than sorry.

"Mine," Paul tried to explain, only it came out sounding like a neanderthal, so he cleared his throat and tried again, "Just don't-I mean-"

"It's alright; I understand. I'm sorry," Ana saved him from further embarrassment, a small smile gracing her lips. "I haven't seen you this strung up since you were a child."

Well, that was the magic of being bonded to an unresolved teenager who was infatuated with a vampire. Lovely.

"She's-"

How could he explain what happened when he wasn't even sure he had fully comprehended yet how fucked up his bond had become after only a handful of weeks.

He ended up going with, "-not interested."

"Not interested?" she questioned with far less compassion what he had hoped. "How long have you known?"

"27 days." Not that he was counting or anything.

"I'm not going to say anything about you failing to mention that to me before," Ana said. "But don't you think less than a month is kind of a short time to say whether she's interested or not?"

"No, I don't. Bella is... She's in love with a fucking bloodsucker."

"A vampire? Ah! The Cullen boy. Billy may have mentioned that in the council once or twice."

Once or twice, right. "Yeah, _him_."

He was shaking. Of course he was shaking.

"Hard to imagine she's getting much from a boy who's no longer here," Ana wondered, once more closing the gap separating them.

"Dammit, Ana, give me a minute," he asked — pleaded.

"Oh, hush, Paul, don't give me that." She ignored him, unsurprisingly. "You're doing fine."

Only he wasn't. He wasn't, and her saying that only served to send a sharp stab of pain through his chest, as he tried to breathe past the anger and the frustration. Bella would never be his — worse, she already belonged to someone else. A goddamn leech. He wasn't fine — he had no idea how to be fine with giving up of his own desires to make his mate happy. It was ridiculous, pathetic.

It should've been easy.

"Oh, Paul." The tone was completely different from before, and suddenly he was wrapped in Ana's arms as he hugged him with all her mighty force. "I'm here for you, okay?"

Paul couldn't return her embrace, but he allowed himself to be held, burying his nose into her soft hair to breathe in her scent. Ana always smelled of hospital and lavender, and while it wasn't the most pleasant scent for someone with his level of sensitivity, he had come to associate it with calmness and kindness and love.

The moment lasted for a couple of minutes before he heard the familiar sounds of paws hitting the ground and Jared's smell hit the air. He wasn't rushing or howling, however, so clearly, his approach wasn't a call for help, which made Paul decide to remain where he was, ignoring his brother for the time being. It wasn't like him to cling to physical touch, but fuck if Bella didn't sake his whole like structure without trying.

Jared shifted a moment later, "Paul!"

Ana released him, although she made no further move. "Jared, what happened?"

Speaking of Bella... "What are you doing here? You are supposed to be with Bella."

"Are you shitting me? You thought I wouldn't come after that?" he asked, incredulous. "I arranged for Embry to stay with her."

"That what?" Ana fished for a response, looking back and forth between them.

"Nothing," Paul assured, focusing on calming her down to prevent himself from focusing on his brother's little speech. He didn't do amotion, not even for Jared. "I shifted earlier."

"Nothing? Paul, don't-"

"I'm fine-," he tried to pretend, even though his brother proximity — and his unspoken promise of action — was enough to send a rush of adrenaline through his entire body. Like an addict seeing their favorite drug being held in front of them, he could hardly control his impulses. Paul wasn't nearly done with his need for violence.

"I see," Ana interrupted them both, finally stepping away. She was always too damn perceptive for her own good. "I'll go make us some early breakfast — you boys do your thing. Nothing too hard, alright? Just... Keep it light."

That was code for no broken bones — or at least not broken enough to call her attention. It was perfect, exactly the response he needed to hear, and not for the first time Paul looked at her with gratitude, wondering what she thought of him for beating up her son on a regular basis and asking him to hit him just as hard in return. It couldn't be easy for her to see them both so bloody on so many occasions - surely she had her preferences in regards to the physical integrity of Jared, at least.

And yet, as he stared into her eyes, stupidly searching for any flash of anger or annoyance or disappointment, Paul saw nothing other than a sincere concern tingled with understanding. Which, in turn, made him feel like even more of a jackass for thinking Ana would judge him when he was hurting right in front of her. It had been his MO in the first few years after she adopted him: do shit and wait for the regret to settle into her face. He tested her, constantly, although he hadn't seen it for what it was for many years. He had believed himself over that phase, over the feeling of an impostor waiting to be discovered, and to be confronted with it all over again was just another blow to his already bruised emotional.

Shit. Fuck.

"Don't go doing anything stupid, will you?" Ana finally requested, giving him one last soft look before turning back into the house without a backward glance.

Jared didn't even hesitate, bless him, already going for the button of his shorts.

"Don't shift," Paul cut off, serious. The last thing he needed was to have others inside his mind again, but if Jared shifted in front of him while they were getting ready to fight, it would be inevitable. The tremors were difficult to hide as it was.

His brother halted his moves, obviously surprised by Paul blatant attempt at hiding all the shit running through his mind, before giving him a look that told in, in no uncertain terms, he would not escape that conversation for long.

It irked Paul — just another layer of hot anger settling in. He didn't want to fucking talk about shit, what use would it be? He just needed an outlet for the aggression, and he would be good. That's all he needed. "What? You lost your fucking ability to punch?"

"Living with you? I don't think that's possible. I can punch just fine, thank you. Have you lost your ability to bite?"

It was a jab, clearly. He was trying to annoy Paul into answering — the fucker. Too bad it was working. "Don't need no ability to kick your skinny ass."

"Is that so? Why not then?"

"Shut up, Jared. Shut the fuck up. You're doing this or not?"

"I shouldn't." It was a statement, even though it lacked any believable sign that he intended to follow his own advice. Instead, he took a step forward. "We shouldn't."

It was all the invitation he needed. Paul launched himself at Jared with a punch to the face — no preamble, no foreplay. He was burning with adrenaline, and his brother was clearly there, offering all he needed, even as his words tried to contradict his actions. Instead of the satisfying feel of impact Paul had been waiting, however, he only felt the resistance of air against his fist as his brother dodged to the side, easily avoiding the blow.

Paul felt a predator grin settle on his face as he went for a dirty kick at Jared's knee. It was never funny when the prey didn't try to fight back a little first. The chase preceding the victory had always been the best part for him — the motive, really. He fought for the thrill, the excitement, the rush, and nothing else. He could end it with a few carefully positioned hits, but what would be the fun in that?

Jared saw an opening, and pain exploded in his left side, even as he contracted the muscles. A good punch to his ribs. An amateur mistake to leave his sides open. Paul sent his elbow into Jared's face, aiming for the nose, and, after that, it was all a haze.

Jared refused to play the victim, and Paul refused to lose. That's how it was supposed to be, he revaluated, as Jared slammed his shoulder into his: two people who refused to yield until the end.

And yet… his legs were being swept away from the ground, and Jared's fist was connecting with his jaw, sending him into the ground, hard and messy. He was on his back, and his brother was mounting him, punch after punch coming for his head. Pain and confusion settled in as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He tried to shift his hip, hoping to dislodge Jared but was quickly refuted as Jared met his move with one of his own, forcing his body down and sitting on his stomach.

There was something wrong. He was… losing? His face was burning, his ribs on fire.

"Fight back, dammit!" Jared snarled, baring his teeth.

What? Paul was fighting back. He was fucking fighting with all he had, so why wasn't it working?

"What? You're just going to slap me like a bitch?" Another snarl, another lie. What was happening?

Something was too wrong. Wrong.

More punches, more pain. His nose was broken; his jaw was cracked.

"Hit me, you son of a bitch! Fucking hit me!"

"I am! Shut up!" There, he said it.

"Or what? You'll keep letting me wreck you? You're pathetic, god!" Jared spat, head above his. "You're not even trying."

Lies. Of course Paul was trying. Who laid down and accepted punches to the face without fighting back?

Jared suddenly grabbed Paul's right wrist, waving it in front of Paul's face — a teasing. "Is this all I get from the great Muay Thai teacher?"

That couldn't be right. "I—I—"

"I'm sure Bella will be impressed," he mocked, face twisted into a scorn mask.

He growled — all sharp teeth and fury. "She's mine."

"Yeah? Who said so?"

And, like a switch, the man's mind overrode the wolf's, and Paul sagged under Jared's weight, incredulous at his situation. Like a wave, the feeling of lost threatened to overwhelm him.

Suddenly, Paul realized that what truly killed him wasn't that Bella was still in love with a bloodsucker, or that she felt nothing towards him, or that she used him. The realization that was digging at his insides was that Bella didn't even notice how the depression was slowly eating her will to live. "She's suicidal," he whispered to Jared, whose face no longer seemed to mock him. Instead, in its place, was a look of pain.

"Bella—"

"Wants to die. Doesn't care if she lives." It was too much. Just too fucking much to know his sanity was balanced on the life of a girl who couldn't give a fuck whether she lived or died anymore. "Jared… I don't think I can do this."

"You don't have a choice." The words seemed to cause his brother actual pain. "We don't get a choice, Paul. She's young and hurt. She needs help. We'll do whatever it takes," he promised, squeezing his shoulder and resting his forehead against Paul's. "Whatever it takes."

With a last broken breath, Paul succumbed to the tears pooling in his eyes. They burned as they made their way down his cheeks. For the first time in more than ten years, he cried, holding his brother like a child as he tried to keep himself together for himself and for his imprint.

Bella.

Always Bella.


	12. Losing Control

**Author's Note: Am I an unpredictable author with no self-control whatsoever? Yes. Do I bring a gigantic chapter filled with smut to buy my forgiveness? Absolutely. Am I sorry? Nope. No, I'm not.**

 **I have pretty much given up on the whole disclaimer thing. Trust me when I said I own nothing the hundreds other times I've said it.**

* * *

"David! If you don't turn your feet when you kick, you'll end up on the floor again," Paul warned, going behind his student and correcting his footing with a gentle push.

"Ugh, thanks, man. It was so much easier with the punches," the 6'4'' ft overgrown baby complained, adjusting his posture.

Paul wanted to roll his eyes in response but refrained — barely — in an honest-to-god attempt at being the professional he pried himself in being. Usually, he was pretty good at managing his class, but fuck if his students didn't try his patience once in a while. That day, for some reason, he was feeling particularly unsettled — like he was forgetting something important.

"This isn't boxing, David," Paul reminded. "If you don't use your legs, you're going down on the ring later."

"David's going down anyway, don't bother. Boy can't take a single punch without crying out for mom," Jonathan mocked from his place inside the ring, where he was warming up with Blake.

" _Hey_! I—"

"If you have time to be watching David's training, I suppose you're ready for me up there?" Paul asked, giving Jonathan a pointed look.

Blake sniggered, lowering the pad in his hands. "Sure, he's—

"Nah, man. I'm still on the hooks," Jonathan grumbled, cutting Blake off with a glare.

Paul would not roll his eyes. He would not. "Okay, great. I'll just let you get back to it, then?"

Before he could go back to helping David, the cell phone in his pocket began to ring. It was unusual for someone to call him when he was working, so it was either bad news or pack business.

"Shit. I need to take this call," He said, fishing the damn thing. "Keep working on this, alright? I'll be right back."

When David just nodded in agreement, Paul turned to leave the mat, accepting the phone-call from Jacob.

"I'm working, this better be fucking important," was his greeting.

"My dad is not feeling very good, I need to drive him to the hospital," Jacob explained, his voice rushed. "Bella's car is in my garage — I promised I would check it out for her. I was going to pick her up at school, but I won't make it. You have to go. She can't be there alone."

The imprint made such a mess in his head. Even the mention of Bella's name was enough to send his pulse up, as he pictured her face. He wanted nothing more than to see her at every available change, no matter the fucking reason. At the same time, his rational mind reminded him of the shit show that went down the last time he had been near her.

"Shit, Jake. Is Bill okay?" He asked, instead, trying to buy himself some time.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, I'm sure is nothing serious. I'm just worried about Bells."

"What time does she leave school? Can't one of the boys go pick her up?" He asked, like the fucking coward he was.

"Are you kidding me? She's your imprint, you were the first one I called. She leaves at four, Paul. Don't be an idiot," Jake's annoyed voice cracked through the line.

Great, now he was the shitty imprint who couldn't help his own mate. Great. "Yeah, whatever. I'll pick her up."

"Good," Jake breathed out, although it sounded like he was still pissed at Paul. "You can bring her to my house if you want. I shouldn't be long at the hospital."

"I'll ask her what she wants to do," Paul said. What was the term for pussy-whipped when one wasn't even getting any?

Jake didn't seem surprised that Paul would be playing the personal slave for the day. "Sure, great. I have to hurry. Call me if something comes up." And he hung up, without another word.

Paul rubbed his face in frustration. Fuck. Bella would _not_ be happy to see him.

* * *

Paul stood leaning against his bike, trying not to get overwhelmed by the smells and noises coming from the dozens upon dozens of disgusting teenagers who were quickly trailing out of the school, screaming instead of talking to each other. There were no signs of Bella anywhere, and he couldn't hear her voice coming from inside the building, but the sharp tug of the bond allowed him to know that his mate was close by — he only needed to wait. Which was easier said than done, because the moment people took notice of him — a stranger — in the middle of their ordinary parking lot, the overpowering mixture of curiosity and arousal hit his nose, and Paul had to give himself a mental pep-talk in order to remain where he was.

God, he had clearly forgotten how hormonal teens could be when in such large groups.

When Bella finally walked past the doors, nearly tripping on absolutely nothing, Paul was unsure whether to be relieved or apprehensive. He hadn't seen Bella in a week — or rather, she hadn't seen him in a week — and considering how things went the last time they had been together, he didn't know how to feel about it. The answer became pretty clear, though, when she raised her eyes from the ground and swept the space, probably looking for Jacob, and, instead, spotted him waiting for her. It was almost funny — the face she made. Almost.

If her heart hadn't begun to pound inside her chest; if she hadn't blushed a gorgeous shade of red, which he could almost feel the heat of from afar; if her face hadn't morphed into a furious scowl; then, maybe, Paul would've laughed. As it was, his own heart began to beat a little faster in response as she strode to where he was, a purpose in her stride. The mere proximity was more than enough to get him going.

Paul realized he was doing a rather poor job at concealing his appreciation as his eyes skimmed over the soft curves of her body. It was ridiculous — the girl was wearing jeans and a sweater, and yet Paul could hardly control his stare as it clung to her figure like a virgin seeing a naked woman for the first time. It was quite pathetic, to be honest.

His presence clearly did nothing for her, though, because she wasted no time with pleasantries. "Where's Jake?" She demanded.

Definitely mad at him, then.

"Billy needed to go to the hospital," Paul explained, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What? Is he alright?" Bella asked, instantly side-tracked.

"Jake said he should be fine — nothing serious. He couldn't come to pick you up, though, so he called me."

Which was the wrong thing to say, clearly, because his mate's expression soured. "Well, you needn't have worried, Paul. I'm sure I could get a ride by myself, Thanks."

Paul held back a wince. He tried to fix it by saying: "I'm sure you could. I'm here, so it's pointless, however. Let's go."

Fuck.

As soon as the words crossed his lips, Paul wanted to take 'em back and shove them back inside his big, fat mouth. No way would she let that pass.

"I'm not a doll you can move around," she gritted out, looking one second away from stomping her feet like a child. "Maybe I don't want to go with you."

The problem was that Paul could hear the parallel talk happening around them, and the things people had to say about Bella and about him. It was a lot. Apparently, Bella talking to someone — anyone— was a huge novelty worthy of a whole lot of speculation. That the person she was talking to was him, in particular, seemed to intrigue the minds of Forks High School that much more. And it all rubbed him the wrong way: people speaking poorly of his mate, him being in an exposed place without his pack, his mate being angry at him.

Worst of all was a tiny wisp of a blond boy who seemed two seconds away of coming to rescue poor Bella of the big, bad wolf. God, Paul almost wished the boy had the guts to actually go near him and try to wrangle Bella out of his hold. A good fight never failed to lighten his mood.

The adrenaline was pumping inside his veins, and Paul was losing the hold of his temper with alarming speed. Which was, maybe, why he nearly growled out the words. "Not here. Let's go."

His mate wasn't prepared to acquiesce so easily, however. "I wanna go home," Bella said, looking at Paul like she was already mentally preparing for the argument to come.

It was, perhaps, the first time she had asked him for something like that — no explanation, no good reasonings, just her honest desire to do whatever — and obviously it would be that. Of course she wanted to risk her safety by staying more time in Forks instead of the Rez, where the entire pack would be. Paul should say no, should drag her to the Rez no matter how attractive her defiant expression was, but he already knew he wouldn't. If Jake had been the one to pick her, Bella would have had no chances of convincing him; however, lucky for her, Paul was the one with the power to decide, and, honestly, it was no decision at all.

Before he even had time to process all that fully, the word was already slipping pass his lips. "Okay," he somehow said, moving to pass the helmet over to her. Just like that, he agreed to risk his life protecting hers in case of an attack.

His acceptance did the trick to snap her out of her funk. Bella was clearly shocked that she had gotten her way. "But I—wait—you... agreed?"

"Yes, I did. Thanks for noticing." Paul couldn't help but mock a little. Her puzzled expression was far too much fun not to.

Bella crossed her arms, not moving to accept the helmet he had in his hands. "Can I drive?" She asked in response, pressing again. Bella wanted to push until he either exploded right there and then, on the parking lot of her fucking school, or gave up and left her stranded and alone. It was absurd.

The problem was that she was under a serious misconception. If she thought Paul was ashamed of being with his mate in any possible way, then she was a fool. For him, it would be nothing short of amazing to sit back with his arms around her as she drove his bike. "Sure," he responded, extending his hand and dropping the key on her waiting palm.

It was obvious that Bella wasn't used to people giving her what she wanted, because the more Paul accepted her requests without a word of complaint, the more he seemed to astonish the hell out of her. "Are you kidding me?" Bella demanded, her jaw a little dropped.

"What? No way. You wanna drive me around, be my guest."

She gripped the key, the anger coming back to her face. "Good," she said, taking the helmet from his hands and pushing in over her head. "Let's go."

* * *

Somehow, inexplicably, Paul found himself in the middle of Bella's kitchen having a heart-to-heart. If one were to ask him how that happened, he wouldn't have been able to answer. It all went far too fast — one second he was wrapped all over her in the bike, watching carefully as she gripped the handle as though it would slip away at any moment, the scent of nervousness and adrenaline clinging to her, and the next thing he noticed, he was entering the house and Bella was pacing back and forth around the space until he snapped and asked what had her in a snit.

She immediately stopped her moves to glare at him, all fire and anger in her eyes. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, fists closed.

Well, at least that was an easy one. "Protecting you."

"I don't need your protection, Paul. I was doing fine without you for the past week, wasn't I?"

Bella was flushed with rage, and for some reason that stole all of his attention. His eyes traced the color going from her cheeks and down her neck until it disappeared underneath the collar of her sweater. It was a temptation of the highest order, and Paul could hardly be blamed for the mumble coming out of his mouth in response. "I don't know, were you?"

"You are impossible!" She groaned, raising her hands like she was done with his shit.

"You are angry," Paul pointed out, trying to gather his wits back. "Why are you angry? I haven't left, Bella."

"Is that so? Weird, it doesn't look like it." She said, pursing her lips. "God, I opened up to you — I trusted you! You just disappeared. How am I supposed to understand that?"

And she was right, of course. Paul ran from her like an idiot who was more afraid of getting hurt than he was of hurting his mate. "I was still in the Rez," was his lame excuse. With him as a wolf, Bella had had zero chances of finding him.

"You said you would be there for me," she reminded, losing some of her anger and showing a whole lot of vulnerability instead. And that ruined him. The wolf inside him howled in displeasure at seeing its mate feeling sad for something he did. It burned something fierce.

And, at that, Paul saw himself doing what he did for no one else — he lowered his walls and went for a good dose of honesty.

"Look, Bella, I'm— I wasn't trying to— What I mean is: I've been around — I haven't left. Okay, maybe it was a dick move to not go after you on the Rez, but I haven't disappeared. I'm the one patrolling your house every night — always. You may not have seen me, but I'm around," Paul explained, tripping over the words like a pubescent teenager in front of his crush. It was ridiculous. Yet, the words kept leaving his mouth, one after the other, in a rush of reassurance as he tried to convince his mate he hadn't abandoned her — couldn't even if he wanted to. "I apologize for hurting you, it wasn't my intention. _Never_. I won't ever not be around."

And wasn't that the sickest true?

She took one step closer, tilting her head in consideration. "What? Every night? Why not take turns with the boys?"

"I'm the best fighter of the pack, and vampires work best at night, for obvious reasons, so you're more vulnerable during that time. It makes sense that I be the one on the lookout. We're not taking chances with your safety, Bella. I'm not."

"I went to Emily's house looking for you. Do you know how stupid I felt?" Bella asked, looking away.

Paul frowned at the information. He hadn't known that — why didn't Emily call him? "It's not stupid, not even a little bit. I—I was scared. I am scared. A lot of what you said scared me, and I don't know how to handle that."

"Why? Cause I'm a fuck up?"

How could he tell her that it wasn't that? That Paul wasn't judging her, that he couldn't. But that he felt something so intense and so overwhelming for her that even the idea of her getting hurt triggered so many goddamn emotions inside him that he didn't know how to deal with? It was insanity — Paul had joined the wagon of the nutjobs the moment Bella looked him in the eyes.

"Cause I care. I care more than I should about your safety, and hearing how much you don't seem to give a shit about it freaks me out, alright?" He explained, defeated. "What do you want from me, Bella? I'm just a man."

She seemed stunned by that, as though that possibility hadn't even crossed her mind. "I— That's not it. I care — I do. I...God, I don't wanna die," she finally said, with a tense expression. "I don't wanna die." It looked like she had only just reached that conclusion right at that moment, as she spoke the words, though.

"What do you want?" Paul would give her whatever the fuck she needed if only she promised to stop endangering her life.

"I want to have a reason to live. Reasons that are for me, you know? I've been living for others for so long... for my mom, for Charlie, for E-E-Edward... I want to find things that motivate me to live for myself. I deserve to enjoy things on my own and have passions and desires that have nothing to do with no one else but myself. Only I have no idea what that is or could be."

Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears, and Paul couldn't help but step closer to her. Bella's pain was his Achilles heel. "You have all the time you want now. Whatever you want, you can do it."

"I'm so lost," she finally admitted, looking up at him with a tilt of neck.

"Being lost is a part of growing up, Bella. You just have to figure out what you want to do to with yourself. No one said it would be easy, and no one said you couldn't make mistakes along the way. Stop being so hard on yourself," Paul almost whispered to her. He couldn't control himself enough to stop his arms from circling her waist. "I've already told you: you wanna scream, you wanna cry, you wanna be angry and pissed, you wanna be selfish — do it."

Bella buried her head in his shoulder, and her scent invaded his senses — sadness, determination, fear, longing. Paul tightened his hold on her, wanting nothing more than to protect her from whatever was going through her head. It was maddening, she seemed so tiny in his arm — precious and fragile.

"Can we stay like this for a little while?" She asked, already tensing up for a denial.

That wouldn't do — not at all. "Bella, we can stay for as long as you need."

And when Paul lowered his head to the top of her's, he secretly hoped she would choose to stay for a lot longer than a little while.

* * *

After twenty minutes, a few silent tears left unmentioned on his shirt, some moments of uncertainty where Paul wasn't sure if he should relocate them to a more comfortable place, and series of changes on Bella's emotions, she had finally, in a shy whisper, informed that she needed a shower and left the room.

Paul released her from his hold, feeling both sorry for having to let her go and emotionally drained from the whole thing. The minute she disappeared up the stairs, Paul dropped his body on a chair with a heavy sigh. Christ, every minute with Bella was an emotional roller-coaster.

He tried to organize his mind as she went about her shower, focusing on the sound of running water. Paul could have a mental breakdown at home — Bella needed him to be stable for her, especially after he pulled a disappearing act for a whole week. He had no delusions that he was forgiven after the moment they had — Bella would want more than that, he just knew.

Suddenly, the sound of the water stopped, and he could hear her walking into her room. It was sudden — one second she seemed fine, and in the next, he could hear a dull sound followed by a yelp of pain.

Paul didn't even decide to get up, his body just moved as he went up the stairs. "Bella!" He called, desperate.

"Wait, Paul!" Bella tried to scream back, but Paul's wolf side was calling the shots there, and he wouldn't be soothed until he saw his mate was fine.

He heard her moving fast for a few seconds, before he pushed the door open, eyes scanning the room for threats that weren't there. There was only Bella, in front of her closet, towel splashed on the floor, wet hair tangled falling on her back, and, worst of all, a big shirt covering her body, which she was still smoothing the edge off when he burst inside. She clearly threw the first thing she saw in front of her on when she heard him going up the stairs, but that smell…

Paul sniffed the air, his nostrils going wide. "Is that… Jacob's?"

She blushed, giving a tiny step back. "Yes."

Bella's fresh, wet scent was mingling with Jacob's earthy one, and Paul's wolf was not okay with that. Not in the slightest.

"You should take that off," Paul heard himself saying, going inside the room;

"What? Paul, wait…" Bella began, holding her hands up in a clear sign for him to wait.

"It smells like him," he added, disgusted, like it explained anything.

"Yeah, well, it is his, so… I can't take it off; I'm naked underneath it."

Did she think that was discouraging information?

"I hope so," Paul said, crowding her space until she was pressed against his chest in a position not unlike the one they had stayed in for long minutes downstairs. Unlike before, though, the air cracked with statics as Paul's wolf pressed in the front of his mind and Bella flushed so prettily.

She angled her head to meet his eyes. "Paul?"

Paul wanted to answer — he did. But his eyes landed on her mouth as it moved, and there was a slightly purple spot in her bottom lip where she has been worrying it that drew all of his attention. Paul wanted to trace it with his tongue, wanted to taste her more than he ever wanted something in his life.

Bella whimpered — a tiny, almost soundless noise that is he hadn't been a wolf he would've never heard. And that was it; he was kissing her. Paul was finally kissing Bella, and it felt nothing short of incredible. Her chapped, wet lips slowly moving against his, her hands around his middle while Paul forced his hand to stay put on her waist. It was their first kiss, he refused to fuck it up.

The urge was there, however, to just push her into the wall behind her and grab her hair to force her head back while he bit into her neck. The need was there, but Paul wouldn't wield to it.

Too soon he felt Bella stepping back with a groan of dissatisfaction.

"Not you too," she said, raising her head to look him in the eyes and plead her case. "Don't do this, please."

Paul was surprised. This was not the reaction he had expected to get after their first kiss. It was the first time a girl complained about his kiss since his first little girlfriend at school who had called him sloppy.

"Do what? What's wrong?"

"This," she repeated, probably thinking she was explaining something. "I don't need you to hold back with me."

Okay, that was unfair. There he was, being careful and thoughtful with her, trying to give her the romantic kiss she deserved, and that's what he got? Bullshit.

"I was just tryin' to be—"

"Well, don't," Bella interrupted, raising her hand. "This is not my first kiss, Paul. I had that with a boy back at Phoenix, who shoved his tongue down my throat. It happened already, you can't make it better."

Paul felt a growl erupt from within the second Bella mentioned someone else's tongue down her throat when he still had his hands on her waist. If she was going for a sudden humor shift, she was doing a terrific job at it.

She responded with a small smile, though, which only served to confound him even further. Was the point to make him jealous?

"I'm not fragile; I ain't. I can take whatever it is that you wanna give to me. So don't, okay? Don't hold back. I already had one boyfriend who treated me like a damn doll, I need not another."

The second she mentioned the leech, Paul was done. His mind didn't even process the whole boyfriend business. He understood what she wanted — or what she thought she wanted — but perhaps bringing up the bloodsucker hadn't been her smartest choice.

He pounced.

One second they stood somewhat separated while she spoke, the next second Paul delved his right hand in her hair while the other held her by the waist as he pushed his body forward and shoved her against her bedroom wall. His entire body was pressed up flush against her, and his head was angled so he could hear her surprised yelp clearly and still whisper in her ear:

"Is this what you want?"

" _Yes_ ," she hissed, dragging down the word as he shoved his leg in the middle of hers, dropping her weight in it. In that position, his thigh was perfectly pressed up against her core.

This time, when Paul kissed her, he held nothing back. It that's what she wanted, he could provide.

It was brutal. A fight for dominance where Bella refused to wield no matter what. Her nails were trying to cut his skin at his shoulders while she pressed herself closer to him, almost as if she could melt against him.

Paul might have moaned her name when she rocked on his leg, and he got to feel how wet she was. Her scent was enough to drive a man to insanity. It was unfair — Paul had been doomed from the start. When he felt her beginning to gasp for air, Paul released her mouth for a second to see her. And she was a vision. Bella looked like the most erotic sight Paul could've ever imagined.

Flat against the wall, her skin was flushed from her collarbones to her forehead. She was biting her bottom lip — which was an enormous distraction — and her hair was messed up and tangled. However, the best part was her hooded eyes. Bella's eyes shined brightly with desire, and it almost took his own breath away.

"I want you so damn bad," he said, her hair balled up in his fist. He already knew what he wanted, and as he grabbed her in his arms to place her on the bed, the anticipation was already coursing through his veins.

Paul wasn't known for his self-control. In fact, he was pretty much labeled as the hothead of the pack — the first one to snap and the first one to act before considering the consequences. And while he kept surprising both himself and everyone else with how smoothly he had been handling the imprint, despite all understandable bumps along the road, it had been a matter of time before he fucked up. Knowing that, Paul could have gone for much worse than going down on his mate. Really, one could argue he was almost being thoughtful.

The shirt had to go. Bella should never wear clothes from another man who wasn't him — especially not from another wolf. And it was with that thought that Paul realized he had fooled himself. He would never be okay with Bella being with Jacob, he could never stand back and watch as they went about their lives together, knowing she belonged with him. Bella was supposed to be his, and no else's.

"Take that off," Paul growled, wanting nothing more than to do so himself, but still cautious with her at the same time.

"What?" Bella asked, confused. She leaned closer, her mouth landing on his jaw when he turned a little sideways.

"This shirt. Take it off," Paul insisted, tugging it. "It smells wrong."

Bella considered it for a minute, her heart rate going up. "You take it off," she dared. It was clear that that was her attempt at being alluring, as though Paul needed convincing, seducing. It was endearing, although unnecessary.

"As you wish," Paul agreed, happy to remove the offending item from her body. In a flash, he was grabbing the hem and dragging it up her body and over her head, until it was out. As soon as he had it in his hands, Paul threw it in the bin at the corner.

He didn't have to look to know he got it right.

"Paul," Bella reprehended, even as amusement swam in her eyes.

Paul couldn't hold back the grin. "Seriously, don't pick that up. His scent on you is an unforgivable offense."

He expected her to laugh or protest, but, instead, Bella looked uncomfortable, staring down at her naked body. Redness began to cover her face, and she started to wiggle under him.

"Hey," he called, lowering his body to cover her's, supporting his weight on his left forearm to leave his right hand free to go for her chin and tug it up. "Don't do this, Bella."

"I...I just—I'm not—," she stuttered, eyes averted.

Having an idea about what her problem was, Paul grinded against her leg, letting her feel his erection through his jeans. "You're a very attractive woman, don't hide. I'd like to—," he began, peppering kisses on her neck. "— kiss, and lick —," he gave a tiny lick on her ear shell. "— maybe bite —," he added, biting her on the crook of her neck. Just a light tug. "—all over you."

She gasped. "I haven't… you know."

And, yeah, Paul did know. He knew because Jacob had thought of Bella in a thousand different ways before he imprinted; but, more than that, he knew because Bella reeked of nervousness, even as it mingled with the sweet, sweet perfume that was her arousal. It was also a big enough deal to warrant a moment of seriousness, even if his dick was painfully hard inside his jeans, pressing against the zipper in the most uncomfortable way.

So he pushed himself up enough to give him room to breathe a hint of air that wasn't saturated by her intoxication scent. "I know," he finally said, trying to be as gentle as possible. It was a delicate matter, and, again, Paul wasn't known for his patience. "Would you like to stop?"

It physically pained him to imagine stopping before he got a taste, but Bella had to know she was safe with him no matter the situation.

"No!" she half screamed, gripping his back as though he had threatened to leave and was seconds away from vanishing, "That wasn't what I meant; I just don't know what—"

"Bella," Paul called out, stopping her when she rushed to get the words out. "I'm not going anywhere. Relax."

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "I don't want to stop, but I also don't know if I want to lose my virginity right now."

"Okay," Paul agreed. It hadn't been his plan to go for penetrative sex for their first time right before her father came home anyway. "That's not a problem, Bella. We can do whatever you want and nothing else. For the moment, I'd really like to down on you — is that good?"

"Uhum," she agreed readily, nodding her head in enthusiasm. "I'm sorry about the… virginity talk. Was that a total mood breaker?"

God, she actually sounded worried about that. Bella was so innocent it ached. "Bella, be reasonable. I have you naked under me — I'm barely controlling myself enough to have this conversation."

"Oh. Alright. Good, that's good."

Paul had had enough, though. He wanted her, and he wanted now. So, with another nod from Bella, he began to make his way down, kissing her neck. However, he could hardly prevent himself from getting distracted along the way. Bella — his mate — was entirely naked for him, and for the first time. Paul was having trouble with holding back the wolf instincts in him.

He wanted to nuzzle her neck and mark her as his; he wanted to pur in satisfaction whenever Bella let out sounds of need; he wanted to take off his clothes and rub himself all over her until their scents were so mixed together every other wolf would know she was his, and his alone. Paul understood it was Bella's first time having a sexual experience with somebody else, though, and the last thing he wanted was to frighten her by acting like an out-of-control animal. He wasn't a virginal boy, and he wasn't a pup. He could act like a controlled person for a while as he focused on making Bella orgasm so hard she begged for mercy.

If only she would quit smelling so damn enticing, then Paul might have a chance at succeeding.

He palmed her breast, and she arched her back. Fuck, he was going to lose it. " _Shit, Bella_ ," he groaned, not managing to hold back from pinching her pink nipple. God, it was a rush to see her back leaving the bed under his ministrations.

"Ugh, do that again," she panted, eyes blown wide. "Harder."

"Harder, hun?" He couldn't help but tease, even as he complied straight away, rolling her nipple once, twice, before pinching it a tad harder.

Finally, Paul was in his element. Talking, being reasonable about sentiments, being emotionally available, well, those were all things he was rather pathetic at and ran from as often as he was allowed; sex, though? Sex was right up Paul's alley. Much like fighting, there was just something about the movements, the sweaty bodies rocking against each other as they both tried to reach their goals, that drove him wild. His adrenaline kicked in, sharpening his senses and focusing his sight at once.

It would be no dismissable self-praise to say that he knew what he was doing. Paul had delved, had tried, had tasted, and he knew exactly how to move and how to get what he needed in bed. Realizing that Bella was pliant and willing, waiting for him to do with her as he pleased, sent a sharp shiver down his spine as he marveled at the numerous possibilities ahead of him. Bella's body was his personal sundae, and Paul was about to dive right in with no spoons or napkins.

She was trashing and whining, her head dropped on the pillow. It was the hottest sight Paul had ever encountered in his life, and he wanted to secure the picture she made in his mind down to the smallest details. The way her hand gripped her own hair, tugging it harshly as though she was trying to ground herself; the way her eyes fluttered open, like she wanted to see what was happening, only to instantly close as another wave of pleasure went through her; the way she panted and gasped for air in desperation; the way her boobs wiggled around every time she moved.

All of it. Paul wanted all of it.

Paul dragged his teeth across Bella's stomach, delighted by the way she shivered and keened. He went further down until he was positioned in the middle of her legs, grabbing the back of the thigh to push the leg up enough to get a good view.

 _Fuck_.

He breathed in. As close as he was, the smell was so intense it nearly blocked anything else out, filling his lungs with only the unique fragrance that was Bella Swan. Tired of denying himself, Paul gave a first, experimental lick, from top to bottom. Bella tilted her hip up, pressing closer to his face.

"Ugh," she moaned. "More."

More? Shit, yes.

Paul licked her clit, sweeping past it and then around it.

It was insane. Paul had had sex with countless women, performed the same acts hundreds of times in several different ways and positions. And while he had always loved oral sex — whether that meant receiving or giving it — tasting Bella was a whole other ballgame. His mouth was closed on top of her clit as his tongue traced the letters of his name on it, just because he could.

It was a heady experience, and he never wanted it to end. Bella wouldn't stay still, though, so he placed one hand over her stomach and forced her down, opening his eyes to meet hers. She was so flushed and dazed, her hair all messed up, looking like she had been tangling her fingers into it.

He wanted his fingers inside her so damn badly. And while the last thing he wanted was to get his mouth away from her skin, even if it was for a moment only, he kind of had to ask first. So he caressed her entrance with both of his fingers, giving her a clue as he spoke. "Is this okay?" He asked, feeling the liquids running down his chin.

Bella forced her eyes open. "Yeah, _please_ ," she gasped, already closing her eyes again as Paul immediately began pushing his fingers inside her, rocking them back and forth.

As soon as he sucked lightly on her clit again, Bella jerked upwards hard enough to dislodge his hand from where had been hovering on her middle.

In response, what Paul did? Sucked even harder, his fingers moving in and out of her in a steady rhythm. He wanted so badly for Bella to come all over his fingers, and yet, wished to prolong the moment for as long as he dared, reluctant to part from the place where he was — perfectly stationed in between his mate's legs, her curls of pubic hair dragging across his nose each time he moved his head.

She was so goddamn tight. It was impossible not to imagine what it would be like to have her wrapped around his dick, and Paul didn't even try to prevent the images from popping into his mind. He let out a strangled moaned against her clit. Fuck, he was so hard he could hammer a nail with his dick, and it probably wouldn't take a second.

And yet…

In a moment of insecurity, Paul demanded: "Look at me." He needed to see her eyes, needed to know she was thinking of him and nobody else. He could take a lot, but if she was using him to think of the bloodsucker in that way, that would wreck him.

He watched as she forced her eyes with a gasp — her chocolate eyes hazy with pleasure, pupil's blow so wide it threatened to swallow the amazing maroon shade. But, best of all, as she looked down to meet his stare, there was only raw desire reflected there. Desire for him.

"Paul," she whimpered, trashing her body when he held her gaze and failed to return to his task.

Paul got greedy. He wanted her holding nothing back — needed her to lose control with him.

"That's it, baby," he growled, breathing into her clit. "Just like that."

Bella's legs were trembling in his hands. She was close, he could tell. From the way her walls squeezed his fingers so damn tightly it was almost criminal, or from the way her heart raced, it was obvious to him that she only needed a good push to drive her over the edge, and Paul was more than happy to provide.

He released her stomach, allowing her hips to rock almost brutally up into his mouth. His fingers curled up in a claw shape inside her, Paul traced her clit over and over again.

"Paul, I— God, I—," Bella whimpered, wrecked.

He moaned in response. Yeah, he wanted her to come for him.

It all happened in an instant. Paul released another moan for her just as he slipped another finger inside her, and Bella fell apart underneath his touch. Her walls began to pump just as Bella arched her back so far up it almost pushed her head of the bed, a groan of relief slipping past her lips louder than any of the previous ones. Her scent peaked, and Paul didn't even try to resist — he drew his fingers back and lowered his head to lap at her folds, pushing his tongue as far inside as he could.

All of Bella was addictive, mindnumbing.

"Shit, _shit_ ," Bella cursed in a chant, and Paul couldn't help but feel smug about being the one to leave her in that state.

It was in that unfortunate setting, however, that the noise from Charlie's car echoed in the distance, and Paul knew their time was up.


	13. Comunication Mishaps

**Author's Note: I can see what's happening here, you can't believe I've updated again so fast. Well, guess what? Neither can I. It's truly a miracle. Most likely to never happen again.**

 **Trigger Warning: Panic attack!**

* * *

It truly was a shame.

Paul wanted nothing more than to savor every inch of Bella in the way she deserved — taking his time to trace all available skin with his mouth until he knew all the dips and crevices intimately. And the way she looked, so debauched and overworked, as though Paul had brought her to her very limit, served as the biggest encouragement possible for him to cross all boundaries she thought she had. Paul had never considered virgins to be particularly exciting — quite the opposite, he would much rather be with a woman who knew exactly what she was doing — but Bella triggered something in him that made him hungry for more.

Lying there, spent and sweaty, Bella probably couldn't even imagine all the other stuff he had yet to show her, or how much he wanted to work her body until another orgasm felt physically impossible. It was...sweet. Bella was sweet.

Had Paul ever been with a sweet girl in his life?

"Your father is about to arrive," he informed, dropping his body next to hers on the bed.

Bella snapped out of her haze. "What? No, no, no," she said, jumping off the bed and moving to grab some clothes, he imagined.

"Yep, about to turn the street," Paul confirmed while he considered if the Chief had good enough eye-sight to see the cum wetting his mouth and chin. If would be a shame to wipe it away. Hmm. Maybe he would risk it.

Bella didn't share his peace of spirit. She opened several drawers before pulling a flowy dress over her head, smoothing it over and over again, as though she had no idea what she was doing. "I haven't even thought about dinner," she mumbled, taking a deep breath before turning to face him. "Is okay, you can go. I understand."

"What?"

"Well, my father is coming home. Aren't you, like, going to jump from the window and disappear into the night? Wouldn't want him to catch you here, in my room," Bella explained, confused.

Paul could hear Charlie parking his car in front of the house as he answered: "Bella, my bike is downstairs. I'm pretty sure your father has seen it already. I can go if you want to, but I don't have to. Not like I'm gonna leave you alone, anyway."

"What should I do, then?" She asked in a hurry when the door opened. "Introduce you?"

Paul couldn't help but laugh. "He knows me, kid. You don't have to introduce me."

"But you-I mean…"

"Calm down, Bella. It's fine, okay?" Paul tried to comfort her, moving to sit at the edge of the bed, closer to her.

"Bella! I'm home," Charlie called out, already walking up the stairs.

"Great, great," Bella whispered underneath her breath, before saying louder. "In here, dad!"

Honestly, it was a true twist of fate that he had ended up with a teenager for an imprint.

Charlie opened the door, eyes zooming in on him right away. Maybe he should've cleaned himself while he could, after all.

"Paul! How you doing, son?" He asked, stepping into to the room to shake his hand. "How's Ana?"

"I'm good, sir, thanks." Paul shook his hand. "Ana is still the same. You know how she is: too much work and not enough sleep."

"I do. That woman is a saint, I'll tell you," Charlie said, turning to face Bella. "Hey, Bella-" Suddenly, Charlie frowned, eyes going up and down Bella's body. "Is that a... dress?" He asked, clearly perplexed.

Bella's cheeks flushed instantly, her hands smoothing the fabric over. "Yes. I can wear a dress," she said, and Paul tried to remember if he had ever seen her wearing a dress before, even on Jacob's memories.

"You can, but you never do." Charlie raised an eyebrow. Paul could see the amusement shining in his eyes, even though Bella probably couldn't, too caught up in her embarrassment.

"I do… Sometimes," she protested, although why she was wasting her time was still a mystery. Bella turned to him. "I can wear dresses, right? I look okay in dresses. What do you think?"

Wait, was that some kind of trick question? Paul turned to Charlie for help, afraid of answering the wrong thing when the truce between him and his mate was still so fragile. The Chief was the epitome of unhelpful, however, because the man was also looking at him, waiting for his answer, a small smile gracing his lips beneath the mustache.

Ah, fuck that shit. Paul turned back to Bella, whose expression was beginning to sour once again. "I-Are you asking me what I think? I don't really care, Bella," he said, shrugging. Better to go with the truth. "Wear whatever. You don't strike me as a dress kind of girl, though."

Honestly, one of those days they would have to sit down and have a serious conversation about the relationship she had with the bloodsucker, 'cause it just wasn't normal, the responses she gave to some of the shit Paul said. As he spoke, her expression cleared from the displeasure from before, but quickly shifted into a look of confusion that had bo place being there from such an innocent question.

"You don't care?" Bella asked, mentioning the dress with her hands. "A dress, Paul. Isn't it, like, feminine?"

"Bella, please. I don't know. It seems impractical to wear it with the amount of falling down you do," Paul pointed out, beyond done with that conversation.

When Bella opened her mouth to speak again, Charlie came to the rescue. Approval was clear in his eyes when he looked at Paul. "Give the man a break, Bella. And he's right, just wear your normal clothes, alright?" Charlie turned to him. "Are you staying for pizza?"

Bella sent an apologetic look in her father's way. "I was going to make dinner, but-"

Charlie waved her off, though. Paul could almost smell the happiness coming from him at the prospect of pizza. "It's fine. You gotta let me have some pizza once in a while, Bella."

Paul smiled. "I could go for some pizza. What time is it? The Mets are playing today at seven."

"Ugh, not you, too. Please tell me you're not a baseball fan," Bella pleaded, and she seemed to be trying to roll her eyes.

"Don't hate 'cause you're a klutz," he said, ruffling the hair on her head.

Charlie laughed. "We'll get you into sports, yet. We have half an hour. I'll take a quick shower, could you-"

"I'll order the pizza, it's fine," Paul waved the protest on the Chief's lips away. "Better than whatever vegetable crap Bella would choose."

"Now you're just being an ass for no reason. For your information, I love bacon just as much as you do."

"I doubt you can like bacon as much as I do, kid," Paul said, already going for the door. "Impossible."

"Well, as long as someone orders the pizza, I'm good. I need that shower now," Charlie said, turning to the bathroom after one more careful look at Bella to study her appearance. The man wasn't a police chief for nothing — Paul could see the calculating expression he was hiding behind the smile hanging on his lips.

"Wait!" Bella called, going after Paul down the stairs. "I can order the pizza. This is my house, Paul. What if you like pineapple as a topping?"

"I'm a wolf, Bella," Paul reasoned. "I like meat on top of meat."

He already had the phone in his hand when she stated: "No olives, Paul. I'm serious. I'll not eat pizza with olives."

"Who doesn't like olives? That's ridiculous," Paul said, shocked. "Bella, olives. One doesn't order pepperoni pizza without olives."

"No! No olives. Even if you pick them off later the taste won't go away," Bella said, trying to reach for the phone. "You have to let me order."

"Now that I know you're insane, how can I? You'll just ask for broccoli or some disgusting shit on it."

"Pizza is important. I want onions, alright? Lots of onions. Like, extra, extra onion. Otherwise, it isn't worth it," she proclaimed, making the sprinkle gesture with her hands, as though she was making the pizza right then and there.

Paul might have to reconsider the choice of the spirits. "Your taste in pizza is so wrong I won't even waste my time. I'll just order one weird one for you and leave the normal one for me and Charlie."

That was the moment she tried to backtrack. "What? No, you don't have to. I mean, I won't eat all that much anyway-"

"Can't hear you," Paul ignored, dialing and placing the phone in his ear. "Hey, good night. I would like to order two large pizzas."

* * *

The game had just ended. There were cans of beer and a coke on the table surrounding the empty boxes of pizza — Paul had to eat half of Bella's, in the end. It was mostly onion with some semblance of pizza, but he persevered in an effort to keep Bella eating. He had been glad to see her having several slices as he tried to explain the rules of baseball to her.

As soon as the whistle announced the end of the game, though, Bella jumped up and nearly ran to the bathroom. Paul held back a smile at her clumsy form as she went up the stairs. He probably shouldn't tell her that he could hear he peeing from where he was. No need to further the embarrassment.

"I suppose I have you to thank for Bella's recent mood swings, hun?" Charlie asked, taking a sip of his beer.

Mood swings? "Why would you think that?"

"Don't get started with me, son. Your name has come up once or twice around here for the past month."

Paul didn't have much time, otherwise, he would have questioned Charlie about what it was that Bella had said about him. However, for the time being, if Bella had already spoken about him before, then he would just roll with it. Her mental health was more important than his curiosity. "How is she?" He asked, hoping to convey with his eyes the true meaning of the question.

The Chief's expression darkened. He considered Paul for a second — perhaps trying to judge his motives for asking after Bella. "She spent months as a zombie, doing nothing, staring at the walls and waking up during the nights from constant nightmares. When Jacob started to come around, it was a relief. I could see the light returning to her eyes. Bella began to eat again and look… happy. Then Jacob got sick, disappeared, and she started to crash all over again. This playfulness you're seeing here... It's a recent development."

Paul couldn't exactly explain the imprint to Charlie, now, could he? There was no good way to explain the sudden change in Bella's behavior, even because he wasn't sure how much of it was due to her starting to hang out with Jake at the Rez again, and how much was the imprint influencing her. He needed more information, though.

"Bella seems… lost. She hasn't spoken much about her nightmares to me."

"She's always been a loner. I thought it was her personality — Renee claimed Bella was born an old soul. I don't know how much of that is due to the separation, however," Charlie explained, a strong sadness clinging to him. "She didn't have the best examples in the world in how to deal with breakups and moving on afterward. She wants to deal with all on her own, never asking for help. When the nightmares began, she would cry in shame for waking me up... It's tough, and I don't think she's anywhere near okay, but she has been sleeping through the night now."

Paul wanted to ask so many things, wanted to press about the nightmares and the things she said while asleep, but he could hear the sound of the door opening upstairs and the noise of Bella's footsteps, so he kept his mouth closed and, instead, rested his hand on Charlie's shoulder before adding: "It's not your fault. She'll pull through. We just gotta do what we can."

He wasn't sure whether he believed the words he said. Bella would pull through only if she wanted to. There was a lot she hadn't spoken to anyone, and that had to be eating at her insides, but he could hardly force her to open up to him when he had been such an asshole lately. He would just have to follow his own advice and be there for her.

Paul fished in his pocket for his key, knowing he had already pushed his luck with the Chief for the day. He wasn't sure why the man hadn't freaked out about him being in Bella's room alone with her, but he had the feeling Charlie was grateful to see Bella behaving like an average teen for once, and was willing to let it slide for the time being. That's why, when Bella reached the last step, he got up.

"I should go," he informed the room at large. "Thank you for having me."

His mate's heart instantly accelerated. "You're going? Already?"

"Yeah," Paul confirmed, locking eyes with her and trying to convey his message. "It's a school night for you and Charlie has to work in the morning. I'm also covering a friend's class tomorrow, so..."

Her expression cleared when she noticed Charlie's questioning stare, but her heart wouldn't slow down inside her chest, and Paul could smell the nervousness and panic coming off of her. Clearly, his attempt at calming her down had been a failure. Giving up on the crypt signals, he turned to face the man beside him.

Who, in turn, was already standing next to him, his hand extended for a handshake. "It was nice having someone around here who knows the game. And who appreciates a good meat's lovers. Send my regards to Ana, will you?"

"Yes, sir. You got it," he said, releasing his hand and looking at the door before sliding his glance back at his mate. "Bella, want to see me out?"

She seemed to snap out of a daydream, widening her eyes. "Yes, sure. Let's go," she said, forcing the steps forward.

"You be careful on that bike, son. I don't want to see an accident with your name on it," Charlie warned, a stern look on his face.

Paul tried to be sincere without being condescending when he promised to be careful. There would never be an accident with his name on it, but Bella's father had no way of knowing that.

"Are you okay?" He asked once they were outside. He leaned against his bike, observing Bella's face.

She had her arms crossed over her chest. "That depends. Are you planning on disappearing again?"

"Bella, I-Not right now, okay?" Paul tried to calm her down. "Your father is waiting for you in the living room. Look, I'll just go call one of the boys to take my bike home, and I'll come back to you, alright? Thirty minutes tops. We'll talk about this. Leave your window opened."

She didn't believe him — it was clear on her face that she was preparing for another disappearing act on his part. She said nothing about it, though. Bella nodded in agreement. "Fine."

Paul considered trying to be more convincing of his return but figured he might as well prove it by going as fast as he could to spare her the uncertainty. So, he nodded back, putting his helmet on and climbing on top of his bike before driving away.

* * *

It ended up taking him much longer than thirty minutes.

It seemed only logical to take the time he had as Charlie went about his nightly routine to do things properly. So, instead of rushing back, Paul shifted for a minute, asking Embry to watch over Bella's house until he returned before making his way home in his bike, taking the time to go over everything that had happened between him and Bella and process what he thought of all of it. It felt good. Being with Bella felt brilliant — but he had more than his own feelings to consider in that situation.

In fact, for the first time, Paul needed to consider his steps carefully. Bella wasn't in a good mental place — she wouldn't be okay with a long night of fumble between the sheets and no morning after. She needed attention, and care, and patience, and encouragement, and understanding, and stability… all these things — things that Paul wished he could provide —, and they weren't qualities Paul ever associated with himself before.

So he went home. Paul rode home, allowing the dark thoughts to come and go inside his head, as he juggled around the possibility of failure, of not being enough, of losing Bella, of losing himself along the way. In his human form, where his thoughts were his — and his alone — Paul allowed the handle of the bike to tremble slightly in his hands as the ruminations took control of his brain, making everything seem more daunting and unbearable.

Paul dropped his bike in front of his house, ignoring Jared's heartbeat coming from his bed — pretending he didn't want it, that he could deal with his imprint without needing to let his aggression loose on his brother —, and shifted to his wolf form, running the way back to Bella. He tuned out Embry's thoughts, singing the national anthem over and over again in his head as he tried to keep his insecurities from pouring over the flimsy barrier of his mind, and, in turn, his pack mate pretended it worked, singing the words alongside him, even as his worry and pity echoed in the deepest layers.

The pity became more understandable, however, when he arrived at the Swan residence, once again in his two legs as he jumped to Bella's bedroom window, and saw her lying in her bed, eyes glazed over as she hugged her middle with both arms and gasped for breath.

"Bella, hey!" Paul called, unsure whether he should approach her or give her space. "What do you need? Breathe, Bella!"

She raised her eyes to him, a wide look of surprise in them. "You-You're here."

A surge of regret curled into his heart, as he watched his mate's surprise. He was such an idiot. He knew Bella had abandonment issues. "Yes, sure, of course. I said we would talk; I told you I'd be back. I'm here."

Bella was trying to uncurl from her position, shame clinging to her as Paul came near her bed and crunched beside her. "I wasn't-," she gasped in between irregular breaths.

Paul laid a hand on her shoulder halting her moves. "Just breathe, alright? I won't go anywhere. We can talk later."

"I can't breathe. Why can't I breathe?"

Paul didn't know, and it was terrifying to see her struggling to inhale the oxygen she desperately needed. "You can, kid. There's nothing preventing you from breathing normally, you just have to calm down first. Tell me what to do. How can I help? Bella…"

"Don't leave," she pleaded, and her eyes were filled with unshed tears. "I'm sorry-I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for Bella. The fuck? I'm the idiot here, remember?" Paul rushed to say.

His mind was reeling. Paul had lived many gruesome situations that would haunt his dreams until the day he died, but seeing Bella breaking down in front of him and not being able to do anything to help was easily the worst feeling he had ever experienced. The bond was tightening inside his chest and, soon, Paul was in severe pain — almost as though he was being given an insight of Bella's sensations.

Without thinking, he manhandled Bella into his lap, placing her entire body curled in the middle of his legs and her head resting in his chest. He wrapped his long arms around her body, squeezing as tight as he dared, in an effort to hold the pieces of her together by mere will force.

"Shit, Bella. Please, breathe," he begged when minutes went by and her breathing would not stabilize. He rested his forehead against hers. "Breathe with me."

And he forced his body to take deep breaths, inhaling slowly and exhaling even slower, allowing the air to mingle with the one coming from Bella. The warm puffs of air coming from her bothered his senses, and the smell of panic clung heavy all over them, muffling all other scents in the room, which drove his wolf wild, but Paul refused to fail again.

After an eternity, her chest began to rise and fall alongside his. Bella sagged in his arms. "I'm good. I-I'm good," she whispered, sounding exhausted.

"No, you're not," Paul contradicted, still in shock. He wasn't likely to ever forget that experience. "You're not good. I'm not good. This… We have to speak about this."

When she opened her mouth, he added. "Not now. Rest — try to catch some sleep. I'll stay with you. But, kid, you gotta speak to me about this. You can't keep having panic attacks on your own, hoping they'll go away on their own."

"I thought I was having a good day today," she said, in a broken voice.

Paul slid his eyes to the ceiling so she couldn't see the way they shut close at her words. Fuck if her words didn't crush his spirits like a boot did a tiny ant.

What had he done?


	14. Unexpected Confessions

**Author's Note: Hello, humans. Guess who's back? That's right, Bella and Paul being an adorable little ball of feelings and confusion.**

* * *

Bella spoke in her sleep.

It was something he had come to expect from her — Paul had spent many nights outside guarding her house, with only her soft breathing and random whispered word as his company. However, that night, while lying in her bed, holding her body in his arms, he heard nothing. Just the usual noises of the forest to keep him company as he tried to figure out how to deal with all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

There was a plan forming inside Paul's mind — something that would change everything... It wouldn't have been his first — dammit, his tenth — option, but Bella was shaking in his arm in her sleep, even as he wrapped his overheated members all around her, and his priority was keeping her happy and safe. He would deal with anything else.

He wanted nothing more than to stay where he was — with her. The thought of her waking up to an empty bed after he had promised to keep her safe was... unpalatable. Charlie was waking up in his bed, though, and soon he would get up to get ready for the day — which would undoubtedly involve a visit to Bella's bedroom to see how she was doing. It was the man's routine, Paul knew it very well. Which meant staying where he was wasn't an option, and, to be honest, the idea of hiding like a creepy teenager didn't appeal to him one bit.

Before he could decide what to do, his phone began to vibrate in the pocket of his shorts, making Paul hasten to fish it out before Bella could be disturbed by the call. The name flashing in the screen was a relief.

"Jared," Paul breathed out, his voice all but a wisp of noise.

" _Paul, what's wrong?_ " He asked, his voice equally soft.

"Bella is sleeping in my arms. She had some kind of panic attack, I think."

" _Shit. Sorry to disturb you guys rough night._ "

Paul's wolf all but purred at Jared including him in his mate's pain, at referring to them as a unity. Yes, it had been a rough night for them.

"No...I, it's fine." It was more than fine. Hearing Jared's calm voice coming through the phone was soothing some sharp edges of his pain, even if temporarily. "What's up?"

" _I was calling to remind you that today is Claire's birthday. Emily thought that you might have forgotten about it, so she asked me to call. You're still going, right?_ " Jared asked, pausing for a moment before adding. " _Bringing Bella, of course._ "

Paul had absolutely forgotten about her birthday. He couldn't miss it; otherwise, Quil would be unbearable to be around for the next decade. It could fit into his plans, though. "Crap. Yeah, I had totally forgotten about it. I'll talk to Bella — see if she wants to go. It would be good for her to be around the pack… Jared, I…"

" _What?_ "

"I think I want to tell Bella about the imprint." There, he said it.

Jared remained silent for a while, and Paul bit his bottom lip trying to wait for his opinion. " _Paul… that's, I—That amazing! Of_ course _you should tell her. I can't believe you're going to. I mean, not that I didn't think you would at some point but—_ "

"Shhh," Paul cut him off. "Keep your voice down, dumbass. If you wake her up, I'll beat your sorry ass."

" _Sorry, sorry. I'm just excited for you. You're doing it tonight?_ "

"That's the idea. Let her see the imprint in action and then explain it to her. Maybe it won't sound so creepy if she sees it from many different perspectives."

" _Nah, stop being so damn pessimist. She'll understand. Bella's always been great with the supernatural — better than most of us. She'll get it._ "

Paul smiled down at his imprint, who was starting to stir in his arms. "Yeah, she's great. Look, Jared, she's going to wake up in a mo. I'll see you tonight, alright?"

" _Sure. I'll see you at Emily's. Call me if you need anything, okay? Don't be a moron,_ " Jared lectured.

"Shut up. Bye," Paul said, ending the call.

Bella moved again, making tiny noises as she woke up. "Paul," she groaned as she opened her eyes, voice raspy.

He blamed that for the way his stance softened like a dog being petted. "Good morning, gorgeous."

Bella groaned again, hiding her face in his chest. "Too early," she mumbled.

Paul slid his arm under her neck, supporting the weight of it and helping her press it against his muscles. If she wanted to hide from the world for a little longer, Paul was happy to help. "You can go back to sleep if you want. Charlie just left to work — you've got a little while still."

And yeah, the Chief that left the house while Paul had been on the phone with his brother, going to work without even pausing to check on Bella, which stroke him as odd, seeing as the man had done so every single day Paul had watched the house.

Bella nuzzled against his chest, sighing in contentment. "How come you smell so good, it's not fair."

"Perks of being awesome."

"I'm sure," she said, and Paul was pretty sure she was rolling her eyes at him, even though he couldn't see her face.

"Shut up, kid." Paul took a deeper breath, bracing himself. "Look, Bella, we're celebrating a birthday today at Emily's. Do you wanna come?"

At that, Bella pushed back against his arm until Paul retreaded his arm and she could aim her head up to look him in the eyes. "Please tell me it's not your birthday and you haven't told me until now."

"No, not my birthday. But everyone is going, and I thought you might like the opportunity to do something other than hanging at Jake's or here."

"Yeah? Sounds good. I can drive to Emily's straight from school. What should I bring? Do I have to buy a present? Whose birthday am I going to, anyways?"

"It's Claire's. Don't worry about presents, I'm sure Quil will have everything sorted out — the dumbass. Just show up, Bella," Paul explained, tucking a strand of Bella's hair behind her ear, holding back the grin when her heart began to speed up the second he touched her.

"Kiss me?" She asked, a tiny frown marrying her beautiful face as though she was unsure whether she should be doing that, and Paul could hardly stand it.

"Are you asking or _asking_?" Paul demanded, hoping to see a spark behind those brown eyes.

She narrowed said eyes. "God, you are such a jackass," she proclaimed, reaching for his shoulder and pushing him down just as she stretched forward, capturing his lips on hers.

Paul laughed into the kiss, making their teeth clash for a moment before he got himself under control, kissing her back, all slow morning decadence.

"You sure know how to make a man feel wanted, kid," Paul said when Bella released his mouth to take a breather.

Her reaction wasn't the laugh Paul had been expecting, however. Bella actually flinched back, a wince passing through her face before she attempted to hide it. Which, in turn, made Paul feel like the biggest idiot for saying that to her when he knew how fragile her self-esteem already was.

"We need to talk, Bella," Paul began, going for the softest tone he could muster. "Yesterday…"

"I—I mean, I know it was bad—"

"You need help," he said. "Bella, that was scary as fuck for me — I have no idea how it must be for you."

"I don't want to take pills. I'm not crazy," Bella pointed out, as if she had to convince Paul of her sanity. Her whole body reeked of sadness.

"No one is saying you're crazy, kid. Needing help isn't the same as being crazy."

She paused, biting her bottom hard. When she spoke, it came out really goddamn tentative. "When we... when we were together, it didn't feel bad. I didn't feel bad. I felt incredible."

It almost hurt to be the responsible one and reason with her. Damn, he wanted to be the one who healed Bella so fucking much it was an ache in his very core. "While I'm really honored that you would think so, Bella, I do not have a magical healing cock. I can't solve your problems with sex, despite how much it pains me to say so."

God, he hoped she knew how badly he wished to strap her to that bad and never leave her side again.

"I didn't say you could heal me, Paul. I just… I've been chasing ghosts for a long time now. I haven't been healing. I just want-wanted so badly for everything to go back to the way it used to be that I didn't allow myself to let any of it go," Bella said, and her eyes were sort of shining with just the barest hints of tears.

Paul hesitated for a brief second before asking: "You never did explain the whole 'hearing voices' thing."

"I…" She started, but her voice died down. Bella scratched her forearm lightly, almost like she was grounding herself as she spoke. "He took everything when he left. All the material things that had once been concrete evidence of his presence in my life — do you know how that made me feel? It had always seemed like a dream to me — vampires, supernatural creatures… love — and to have it all ripped away only seemed to be the confirmation I needed that it had all been in my head."

"Hey," Paul said, grabbing her hand in his. Her arm was turning red. "Don't do that. It wasn't a dream, Bella. I know it's a weird world; it doesn't make it unreal, though."

"Yeah, I get it now," she breathed out, tracing a random pattern in his hand. "At least most of the time I get that. So, yeah, I found out that doing shit — anything, really, that got the adrenaline going — made me… I don't know, hallucinate? I could hear the voice so clear… it's crazy. Perfectly — like he was right there."

Paul gritted his teeth, trying to remain level-headed enough for that conversation. He had been the one to ask — he had to be man enough to hear the answer. No matter how much Bella sadness ignited his anger instantly, or how much he hated hearing about the endless well that was Bella's feelings for the bloodsucker.

"You risked your like—"

"I know," she interrupted, shaking her head. "I know, Paul. It just… didn't seem to be dangerous enough to risk losing my only connection to him."

Her heartbeat was going up the more they spoke about it, even though her face wasn't giving that much away. Paul could see the flush, the unshed tears… he could almost feel the despair clinging to her skin like sticky honey.

"You deserve so much better than an asshole who does something like this to you, Bella. I hope you fucking know that he's an idiot. The biggest fucking piece of scum to ever walk the face of the earth for putting you through this shit on your own," Paul pushed the words out his grit teeth. Bella didn't look scared though, she looked pained. "How dare he—"

"No, let's not do this. I can't, Paul. I'm not there — not even a little bit. Can we just—"

Paul fisted his free hand, reining himself back in. Of course she wasn't there yet. Bella had just recovered from a panic attack — it wasn't the time to be badmouthing the bloodsucker. Shit… he would just… just hold it back. For now.

"Sure. Sure, of course. You need to go to school, and I need to go to work," Paul said, squeezing Bella's hand. "Let's do breakfast, hun?"

She rewarded him with a small, tired smile. "Food sounds… almost good."

Almost good had to be a step forward, right? Paul thought to himself, as Bella left his arms and he held back the instant need to drag her back.

It had to be something.

* * *

On his way back to the rez, after the longest class Paul had ever endured, when he came within hearing distance from Sam's place, his brother's voice interrupted his peaceful journey.

"Hey, Paul, bro, listen to this shit," he said. "Your mate is on a roll here."

"What?" Paul asked, already searching for his imprint heartbeat.

It was almost too easy to single out Bella's presence even from afar, coming from inside the house.

"— no, wait, so, think of it like this: say something, anything." Bella was speaking fast and rushed, as though she wanted to get the words out there as soon as possible. "Imagine you're in the middle of a discussion, a conversation. You're trying to make your point, so you say something. Then you realize that what you said wasn't exactly quite what you meant — you wish you had added something or said it differently. So you repeat it — a better, more refined version of what you had previously said. But then, again, more thoughts pop into your head, and there's another thing to add, a more compelling way of selling your view. So you say it for the third time — and it's an even better version, an even more developed idea. Great, right?"

"Yeah, so?" Emily asked in a calm tone, following along.

"Now imagine that the third time is always your first time. You have so much more time to think about what you're saying because your brain is naturally quicker. Not only that, but when you're engaging in conversation with someone, you perceive their body reactions — if their hearts are beating faster or slower, if they're suddenly sweating, if they are nervous, or shaking, even just a tiny bit. It's crazy, you can tell if the hairs in their arms are suddenly raised, or if they glance to the left when they tell you something. Even if it's very discreet, it's still there. You see it all. Your eyesight is so much better than other's, so you see every minuscule change. Now, imagine being like that all of the time. Being a vampire is not only about being faster or stronger or having gifts, is kind of like being a super-human, in a sense. In which you can perceive things in a hundred different ways while also analyzing the information you're gathering simultaneously. I think that's the point: they are essentially another species. And I don't think enough people understand what that means."

"She's not wrong," Embry said, as Paul parked his bike.

The boys — sans Quil — were all sitting in front of the house, listening as Bella carried on speaking to Emily. It was a novelty to hear Bella actually say stuff instead of bottling all inside and looking sick for it. Jacob had an expression balanced between disbelief and satisfaction that said he agreed with Paul's shock.

"This is—," Jacob began, but Bella spoke again, interrupting him.

"They are not the only ones, though. I mean, werewolves," She carried on, a little slower now. "They are angry, they need that anger to shift. Yes, as you get more experience, you learn to access that place without much effort. But still, the driving force behind their shift is that feeling. There's no way that doesn't have an effect on them — it's not possible. They are overgrown adolescents or young adults at most, who became a supernatural being overnight. It's pretty obvious to me that they struggle to coincide being a human with being a wolf — it's two different bodies, with sometimes conflicting needs and desires. Your perceptions change when you are a wolf — you see the world through the perspective of an animal, despite being a conscient one. They'll want to hunt and eat rare meat and chase the prey."

"What the fuck," Paul whispered from his place leaning against his bike, looking at Jacob in surprise. Just how much was the boy sharing with his mate about being a wolf?

And yet, the boy was shaking his head. He hadn't been the one to say any of that to her.

"That's all her," he explained.

Bella pulled in a deep breath, shifting in her seat. "That's not even mentioning the pack mind connection! I mean, good God, that has to drive 'em mad! A big part of their lives is suddenly being broadcasted to all their pack-brothers, and at the same time, strange thoughts are being pushed inside your head without boundaries. How easy must it be to blur the lines? To see yourself as the other person? If nothing else, having that barrier protecting our most intimate and private thoughts is what defines us as, well, us."

"Since when has your mate become the Doctor Phil of the supernatural?" Embry asked, pulling an impressed face. "It's pretty impressive."

"She has a lot of free time," Jacob responded. "And Bella's always been a curious one. She doesn't know when to leave things alone."

"That's good, right? I mean, if she wasn't curious, she would've never come to the rez, and perhaps she and Paul would've never crossed paths."

Sam shook his head. "She's his imprint. They would've met, I'm sure. Maybe that's why she's so good with all this. Leaves more room for Paul to be the one running away."

"Damn, Sam. Straight for the jugular, man," Jared whistled out. "Harsh."

"Shut the fuck up."

"It's insane when you think about it!" Bella exclaimed, clueless to what they were saying. "You have that anger, you have that gigantic struggle of having to behave as humans while you are around others but having to get in touch with your animal side whenever is necessary to save your life — and the lives of others, which are now your responsibility to protect, even if you never applied for that job or imagined it would be yours. Also, you have to know how to distinguish yourself from others. Because it has to be a struggle, there's no way it isn't. Even if — and that's a big, big if — they know at all times whose thoughts are whose, there are still a bunch of voices screaming inside your head — which you're not used to, you're not prepared to. Nothing."

"Sam says they do know how to differentiate from one another," Emily informed, and she had to know they were all standing right outside the house. "Which, of course, doesn't negate what you just said. It is horrible. I mean, most of them were only teenagers when they first shifted… is never easy to have these many secrets."

"Exactly! And honestly, it drives me mad, bananas, insane that no one is talking about this. That the- the- that they wouldn't really say anything about this, and that the boys have to act like this is all normal and okay," Bella exclaimed, her voice going up higher as she got more excited. "And that's not even going into the whole mate thing. Being in love with a human — I'm not saying is not possible, I'm sure it is, actually — but it has to be the hardest thing to happen to a supernatural being. Vampires struggle to deal with other scents that come from humans that are not blood, just as the wolves do. Being around people who wear too much perfume, too much hair products, who stink, who are sick. It's a struggle. And for them is like the world is continuously in slow motion. Can you imagine that?"

"I can," Embry grumbled. "It fucking sucks — that's what it is."

"I don't think I ever heard Bella speaking so much before," Jared pointed out. And, to be honest, neither had Paul. No in one go like that.

Jacob, though, looked incredulous. "I can't believe she's speaking about the leeches," he said, looking at the house like he was trying to see through the wall.

Bella wasn't done, however.

"It was hell for me too, you know," she said, calmer this time. "I don't know how you do it. Before coming here I had never been so conscious of my own needs and necessities as a human — not once had I double guessed myself when I needed to go to the bathroom, or when I sweated a lot or had morning breath, or I don't know, needed to fart, for God's sake. And I know I tend to be overdramatic with my feeling, alright, but it is hard enough being a teenager in high school without having to keep yourself in check all of the damn time because of the people you are surrounded by."

Paul winced, sharing a look with Jacob. They probably spent way too long complaining to her about the bad aspects of superior senses.

He could hear Emily moving around the kitchen. "Bella, breathe. Sweety, you need to relax. These boys can hunt and kill — they'll survive odors and noises. You don't need to feel self-conscious about yourself," she explained. "Pass me that bowl. No, the other one. Thank you. Look, just do whatever and trust they'll tell you if something bothers them, alright? Trust me, Sam had no qualms about throwing my old perfume down the drain."

"He didn't?" Bella asked, a hint of a smile on her voice.

"What? He sure did. I mean, he didn't actually pour it down the drain — the smell would linger, of course. But he did tell me, in no uncertain terms, to get rid of it."

"Do you ever miss it? I don't know, being able to wear whatever?"

Besides Jacob, Sam stopped breathing.

"No," Emily said, without a hint of hesitation. "Of course I miss some things. We all do, in a way. But I love Sam, Bella. He's… Sam is all I could've ever hoped for, and more. All these things you're wondering — I went through it all. Is wasn't the life I imagined, nor is it all flowers and roses, but it's a whole lot better than what you've seen. I know those vampires hurt you, sweetie, the boys are not gonna do that, though."

It was Paul's turn to hold in his breath, even as he silently thanked Emily for being the goddamn angel she was.

"I… thank you," Bella said, and Paul could hear her steps around the kitchen. "Please, let me help you with something."

And, just like that, the whole deep conversation was over, and Paul was left with his spinning mind and stunned pack-mates, wondering what the hell had just happened.

* * *

The party was in full swing, a bunch of annoying kids running around the place. Sam's house was fully decorated with all sorts of Disney's princess stuff – all pink and party hats. It wasn't the typical situation for a bunch of grown men to be – the pack surely stood out like a sore thumb, even if they had all made an effort that night, wearing shirts and all.

Yet, to Paul, it was Bella who seemed more removed from the excitement, sitting by herself in a kitchen chair, nursing a half-full glass of water. He walked toward her, pulling up a chair to sit by her side.

"That's Claire," Paul informed, needless pointing to the small child in Quil's arms.

"Emily said she's her niece. Is that why you guys are all here?" Bella asked.

Paul shook his head fondly. "Nah, kid. Claire's pack, we wouldn't miss her birthday."

Bella's mouth dropped in shock. "No way. That little kid is a werewolf?" She asked, and Paul could almost see the weird places her mind was going.

Paul laughed. "Course not, Bella. Please. She's turning three."

"Then how—"

"Look, just... just observe, alright? I think it will be easier to explain after you see it in action. Just keep your pretty eyes open," he pleaded, hoping to some deity above that Bella used her sharp brain to see the connections bonding the people in the room.

Bella predictably blushed at the compliment but held the eye contact. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

Paul refrained from pointing to where Jared and Kim were deep in conversation at the corner. "The way people interact with each other. Some will stand out, I have to doubt. I'll explain everything afterward, don't worry."

"Okay."

* * *

It was late — the party had ended many hours before. They were inside Bella's car, just the two of them, driving back to her place. The cabin felt small and overheated, and Paul had to make an honest effort to unstick his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

"What did you see?" Paul finally asked, when she refused to break the silence.

"Emily and Sam, Jared and Kim… Quil and Claire? Is was strange… different, I guess," Bella began straight away, as if she had been waiting for his clue in the script. It was spot on, and Paul's heart began to race. "They almost gravitated towards each other, in a sense." A pause. "Love, I guess. I saw love."

Like a band-aid, Paul decided to just go for it. "That's the imprint."

Bella turned her head to show her frown. "Imprint? What's an imprint?"

"It's complicated," he said with a grimace. Really, complicated? Was that the best he had? "And by that, I mean I hadn't planned on telling you about it — not for a while, still. But I think you need to take the reins of your own life, and as your imprint, I should lead by example."

"What? Wait, Paul, what?" She asked, her hands tight around the steering wheel. "You are my imprint? What does that mean?"

"Honestly? It can mean a lot of things. It means I'm connected to you. We are connected. And that can mean whatever we want it to mean — whatever you want, more specifically."

"I need to stop, I need to park," Bella said, her breathing coming faster and faster.

"It's La Push, Bella. Stop here," Paul directed, wanting to touch her but wondering if it would only make things worse. When she kept panicking, he dropped his hand on her thigh. "Kid, stop. Now."

That seemed to snap her out of it because Bella swerved to the left and killed the engine. The silence after Bella's ancient truck stopped making noise was deafening in the dark.

"Explain," she demanded, turning her whole body to face Paul.

The movement dislodged his hand from her leg, and he made no move to put it back, opting to drop it in his own lap as he readied his mind for the conversation.

"Imprinting is… like figuring out you had several connections in your life, and they were all not as strong as you thought they were, 'cause suddenly there are a million titanium lines bonding you with a single human being, and that's more… just more. It's how we — werewolves — find our mates. We know, at first glance." Paul tried to put into words the feelings that went through him when he first saw Bella, even knowing he had no chances at conveying half the strength of the emotions.

"Like love at first sight?" Bella asked, her voice flat. Clearly, the concept wasn't tempting to her.

"No, not the romantic love you're thinking," Paul said, trying to gauge her every reaction. The way her heart kept going at a strong pace, the way she was holding herself uncommonly still, the frown of her brow — he studied 'em all, in hopes of seeing even the slightest hint of a positive reaction. "It can be whatever the person needs it to be. Quil, for example, you saw him tonight. He's gonna be the best older brother/friend Claire could've ever hoped for because that's what she needs at the moment. There's no hint of romance in his head."

"But Emily…?"

"Emily needed something else. Her story is her own, so I'll ask you to go to her to hear it, but what I can tell you is that Sam was there for her, being whatever she needed him to be. He chased Emily for months and months, just to be near her." Paul hoped his voice didn't sound as tired as he suddenly felt. "In a way, the power is all with the imprint. When Emily asked Sam to leave her alone, he did it. When she changed her mind, he was still there."

Something dark flashed behind Bella's eyes. "You don't have a choice? You're forced to be around the person."

Paul could've lied, probably should've lied, but he had promised himself to do right by Bella, even if he didn't want to. Especially if he didn't want to. "It's complicated," he said, trying to transmit his own emotions through his eyes. "In a way, yes, we don't have a choice. When we see—when I saw you for the first time, the minute our eyes met, the bond happened to me. There's no way I could ever escape it, no one else for me. So, yeah, in some ways I have to satisfy the bond and be near you, but that doesn't mean I don't have my own free will, Bella. I know what you're thinking, so don't. I could satisfy the bond without getting involved in your life."

And, okay, maybe that was a stretch on his part. He probably would be miserable living his life far from Bella — he's not even sure if he actually could — but he could've tried more. If he didn't enjoy her presence, he wouldn't have done half of the things he had done.

"Could you, though?" She asked, as if she could read his mind. Bella leaned forward. "Don't lie to me. Tell me how it is… _please_."

The pleading was unnecessary, although it served the purpose of forcing the words out of his mouth almost like a trance. "It's a connection, a bond. We don't know much about it. In fact, we thought it was a pretty rare thing, and yet, somehow, we only have Jake and Embry without an imprint now. What we do know is that it forges this instant link between two people — unbreakable, irrevocable. It can be whatever the imprint needs it to be — the bond makes us want to protect and care for our mate. That's it."

"So I'm forcing my feelings onto you because of the bond. That's basically what you're saying, right? That you become whatever I need."

"You're not forcing anything, kid," Paul denied, and he couldn't help the way his hand raised itself to land on her nape, putting pressure there. "I need to be near you, to protect you, to make you feel safe and happy. I want… well, I want all other sorts of things."

Finally, some tension left her body, and Bella leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment. "What does that mean for us?"

"It can mean whatever you want it to mean. It doesn't have to change anything for us if you don't want it to. But I wanted you to know that I'll be here — that even when I'm not around physically, I won't ever leave you. You have me… if you want me," Paul admitted, bared his heart for Bella to do with it whatever she wished to. He felt exposed and naked, just waiting for the punishing blow to come.

"I… this is a lot, Paul. A commitment for life. God, it's like a fairy-tail soulmate movie," she groaned, overwhelmed.

"Is this what you want, a soulmate?"

"Isn't that what we all wish for, one way or another?" Bella said, somewhat bitterly. "To be loved, to be understood, to be meaningful in someone else's life, to get to have that person who will not shy away from the darkness in you, but who will, instead, lean in and figure out the way you need to be touched and loved."

He could tell her mind was going to another place, though, so he squeezed the back of her neck, sliding a bit closer to her tense body. "What are you thinking about?

"That I can't change," she admitted, dropping her hands on his leg and squeezing it in return. "I've tried. I've tried to chance, but I can't, and I feel pathetic, trust me. I say that I won't get attached, that I'll protect my heart, that this will be the time I impose barriers between others and me, but I only get more anxious each time I see myself repeating the same mistakes over and over again, trusting everyone. I said it to myself with Edward, that he was far too good to ever settle for a girl like me, who had literally nothing to offer to him, and yet, still, I allowed the moment to sweep me off my feet, and there I went, like the complete fool I'm starting to realize I am, after him like a puppy. And he broke my heart, tore it to pieces and stump on it — broke it off with me in the worst possible way for me, throwing all my insecurities right into my face and leaving me with nothing."

The pain wrapped around her words turned on all the alarms in his head. "Bella…"

"It was hell. It truly was," Bella carried on, ignoring his interruption. "And for a long while, I thought that I was done with opening up to people. Edward had been my shot, and I blew it — I had to accept that. But then there was Jake... And how could I not? Honestly, I don't even know how we got to where we are. He just walked into my life, pulled up a chair, sat down and when I saw it, we were having fun together. I wanted to feel something, anything, and Jake was the perfect enabler."

His mate opened a small, embarrassed smile. "You know, it took me a longer while than I'm comfortable admitting to see how big Jake's crush on me had grown. He was all sunshine and smile, not a hint of pain to be seen on his face, and I felt bad to keep reaching out, to keep hanging around when he often had to help me put my pieces back together. But he wouldn't leave, and I convinced myself that I wasn't getting too involved, that I needed him for a purpose and that was it, nothing else. Obviously, I was very wrong."

And that was it. The hand that had been gripping Bella's neck slid downwards to her back, his arm wrapping around her waist until he manhandle her body to sit on his lap. He needed he close to have that conversation.

Bella shifted to get comfortable, but didn't shy away from his touch. She was on a roll, and the words just kept on coming. "When he shifted and disappeared... It was far too familiar. Straight away I thought that that was it — I had lost another boy I had opened my heart to. And although I never loved Jacob in a romantic fashion, he still had my love, he knows that. He knows that I care, more than I probably should... and he still left. Vanished without a single phone call. It was hell all over again, only now with double the layer of self-flagellation because, honestly, I should've known better than to get it so damn wrong two times in a row."

"He couldn't call you, Bella. We can't ignore the alpha order — it's not like he didn't want to. Trust me, I was inside his mind, okay? The boy thought about you all of the time. It wasn't because of nothing you did."

"I get that. I don't know how to explain what months on end of self-hate and shame will do to the mind — I don't think even I understand the full scope yet, but it suffices to say that I still don't have a clue to what the hell I'm doing and how I'm even holding myself together to live my normal life," Bella explained with a pained grimace. "Even now, that I'm an insider — that I get why Jake had to leave — it still stings. Not because I don't think he did what he could, but because it seems too much of a coincidence that this keeps happening to me." A pause. "I don't know if I'm explaining this well enough or if you think I'm a total nutcase…"

"Of course you are not, Bella. You have to— And me?" Paul asked, even though he wasn't sure if he could handle the answer. "Bella, you have to know—"

"I know. You said imprint is for life, right? So I'm going to be honest with you — I'm tired of having to be the one who understands and forgives. I am. Seriously. I know that you had your reasons; I know that you never meant to make me feel bad; I know all of that. I do. But it doesn't mean I don't hate it. Doesn't mean I don't think it will happen again."

Which was only fair, if Paul saw it from an objective point of view. Bella deserved a break more than anyone else he knew.

"I can force my mind to believe it when you say you can be whatever I need, because if that was the truth, then you wouldn't have done that. I'm a grown woman, Paul, I can take whatever," his mate said, looking him in the eyes, and Paul could see that she meant every word, that she was transmitting a message he needed to understand. "Supernatural? Sure. Craziness? Bring it on. Yell, scream, shout, and pull all our hairs out? I'm good for it every day if I have to. But what you all do — vanish from the planet, knowing that you have supernatural powers that leave me at a completely different game field? That destroys me, Paul."

She took a deep breath before adding, "I'm tired of feeling like shit. Like I'm not good enough just for being human. I'm sick of it. I can't help being what I am, and I can't change it either."

"I promise I'm not gonna do that to you again. If you can't trust me yet, it's fine, I understand. If this is what it takes, kid, I'm gonna glue myself to your side until you're so goddamn tired of me you'll ask for a break, I swear," Paul promised, swearing to himself that he would not be another man to make Bella suffer — he refused. "Just… don't give up on me."

He closed both his arms around her, needing to feel that she hadn't left him, that she was still here. He couldn't lose her — not Bella. Not his imprint.

Yet, Bella said nothing. She remained in his arms, but said nothing. It wasn't needed, for the silence spoke louder than any word she might have said.


	15. Midnight Prayers

**Author's Note: Look who's back? Me, your least favorite author, who takes forever to update her own story because they insist on writing one-shot after one-shot, like an addict. Do forgive me — I try.**

 **Alert: this chapter has an unreasonable number of curse words. Paul's dealing with a lot — leave him alone.**

* * *

It was torture.

Whatever shit Paul had done in the past, it was all catching up to him at once, without a single pause — that was the only possible explanation. Karma was knocking at his door — or maybe just kicking its way in with a big fucking ' _fuck it,_ ' 'cause that whole situation was bullshit.

Paul was lying on Bella's bed, trying to be a good imprint and keep his promise of staying close. In theory, it should've been perfect — hours and hours of having his mate safe in his arms without a single distraction. In reality, things were not quite as simple. Mainly because he couldn't go to sleep while the leech was still breathing somewhere out there, and so, Paul had to keep both of his eyes wide open in case the bitch decided to finally show her face.

It shouldn't be such a problem. Paul was used to sleepless nights, to be honest, and since Bella, he had yet to sleep throughout the whole night even once, so he was fine with not getting to go to sleep alongside her. What he wasn't fine with, however, was having to stay in Bella's bed while she slept, sprawled all over his chest, wearing the flimsiest goddamn pajamas ever, while she had a fucking wet dream.

Fuck.

It was torture. It was.

Paul could feel the puffs of breath hitting his clavicle, hitting his skin, and tingling his senses. He could see her eyes fluttering ever so often as she moved around, whining and pleading in that gorgeous tone of hers.

She moaned, a soft, sweet sound echoing inside her mouth, all neediness, and frustration — almost as though she was asking for more.

He was hard. Of course he was hard. Paul's dick could easily cut through glass and it wouldn't even hurt — that's how bad it was.

Paul had never been so goddamn hard in his entire life, and he couldn't do shit about it. That, in itself, would've been tormenting enough to drive a lesser man insane, but to literally have his soulmate wiggling over him, practically dry humping him, her knees bent and her breasts rubbing against his chest with each new move, well, that was something else entirely.

Paul was shirtless, so the only thing standing in the way between his naked chest and Bella's was the flimsy shirt she wore, and the more she wiggled around, the more it felt like Paul was not imagining the way her nipples dragged across his stomach.

He tried to close his eyes, only for a second, hoping to focus on the noises coming from the woods, the nearby houses, the road, _anything_ , but it was impossible when her scent clung to each corner of her room, so intense and intoxicating. Paul started testing just how long he could keep holding his breath before he needed oxygen again. The answer? Not long enough to get his brain to forget how wonderful Bella smelled to him right then and there.

If he had Sam's control, keeping it together would've been tough — even the strongest of will could bend with the right pressure, and an imprint was not something any wolf was equipped to resist. The problem was that Paul was not, in fact, Sam, and his control was being tested so hard at the moment that it seemed to be pure luck that he had yet to shove her aside and run out the door, as far away from her as possible. Or worse, that he hadn't shoved his face on her neck, pulled her hair, and gave her a wake-up call she would never forget.

So, yeah, it was torture. Actually, scratch that, it would've been torture if it had stopped there. But Paul's sins were many, and his mistakes had cut too deep, so fate decided to strike in such a way so that he had no clue on where to start resisting. And so, just as he thought the night couldn't get any worse, his mate began to _talk_.

And for God's sake, Paul _needed_ her to shut up. He needed her to shut up so badly, and his dick twitched, and his hands fisted the sheet, and sweat started to pool on his forehead, and he cursed all names he could think of.

"Paul... I. Give me," Bella moaned slowly, her voice barely more than a mumbled whisper, while she rotated her hips. "More, please."

Paul released his breath all at once, tilting his head back on the pillow, hoping to put some imaginable distance between them, as he tried to get the message across to his dick that it needed to give him a break. Paul was just a man, and Bella was a demon personally crafted to destroy his sanity.

And he wanted. He wanted Bella with an intensity that was still so new to him, despite everything. Her shaved legs were soft, her skin was warm, she smelled more and more aroused as the minutes ticked by, and it became painful to resist the allure.

Paul didn't even have to touch his mate to know she was wet. He could smell the heavy, intoxicating scent of Bella, and with each breath he took, Paul's control slipped only the tiniest bit.

 _Don't touch her, don't touch her, don't you touch her, Paul Lahote._

His eyes flashed to the clock on her bedside table, and it was only 5:13 am, so he still had at least a couple of hours left of this to endure. _Maybe he could wake her up beforehand?_ He thought to himself, even though he knew that she needed one good night of sleep for a change and he would never jeopardize that, even if it meant staying where he was for hours still.

Shit, no, fuck that shit.

If this weren't Bella — if she had any experience whatsoever with sex — Paul would've probably just shifted her enough to free his dick and jack himself off while she carried on sleeping. Honestly, it would've been great — the things she was saying alone would be enough to get him going. It was Bella, though, and he had no clue on how she felt about him masturbating on the same room as her while she slept, and the last thing he wanted was to trigger her in any form, so that was out of the question.

Paul felt he deserved an award, a medal, a trophy, something, anything, for remaining still, his jaw aching with the amount of pressure he was putting into keeping his mouth shut, lest he opened it and spewed all the dirty shit running around his mind.

His problem remained, though, and he was painfully reminded of that when Bella moaned quite loudly, one of her hands gripping his bicep in a steel hold.

Bella moved, turning her head so she could tuck her nose closer to his armpit, inhaling deeply, a groan of satisfaction dripping from her lips, her hips canting upwards, and Paul's jaw instantly snapped shut with the force needed not to growl in response. There was just something so instinctual, primitive, raw, seductive, really, about having his mate crave his scent, especially in a moment of vulnerability, when she was fast asleep and reacting rather instinctively to stimuli.

It would only take a second to lean up a bit to reach Bella's ear, where be could growl, slow and deep, if only to watch her reaction, to see if she would shiver in his arms, or if she would plead for more.

"Yes... don't stop...no. _Please_ ," she begged, and fuck, why did she have to be so polite? "Please, I want..."

She shifted again, throwing her bended knees all the way across his hips so that Paul's thigh slid in between her legs, and then, before Paul had the presence of mind to stop her, she canted her hips down and pressed her panties against his leg and began to use it to get herself off.

" _Shit_ ," Paul groaned, the fabric in his hands ripping quite loudly.

Pre-come began to leak from Paul's cock, the erection squeezed uncomfortably tight inside his jeans shorts, and he started to consider the legitimate possibility of losing his mind.

"Paul," Bella whined, her cheeks blushed in a gorgeous shade on red, all flushed and warm, and she needed something.

His mate needed something, and the wolf began to trash against the cage Paul metaphorically built in order to survive the night. Which seemed like a waste at the moment, 'cause as soon as she pouted, whining for him to give her what he truly wanted to provide anyway, his self-control began to crumple like a paper house.

Bella was so desperate for touch, for affection, for the feeling of being desired, craved, and Paul wanted to deliver. The bond was there, pressing against his middle, and he wanted to give her that, give her anything, and if his mate wanted to be touched, to come all over him, _well_ , he was okay with that.

She kept on shifting — like she couldn't find a perfect position, and that was a pity. Honestly, between her panties and the thick denim of his short, she was probably hurting herself more than helping, and Paul had perfectly capable fingers, and a dick that would—

 _Shit!_

Paul realized his hands had moved on their own accord and he had two fistfuls of Bella's ass, looking ready to help her along. Which seemed to be an excellent moment to accept defeat like a man, so he turned his shoulders, sliding his hands up and all but throwing Bella on her back, getting up from the bed with a jump.

For a while, it looked like she was going to wake up, and she trashed and moved, searching for him on the bed, while Paul tried to keep himself from digging holes on her furniture with his hands, but then she settled, whispering a bunch of nonsense, and Paul sent a silent thank you to Taha Aki.

Paul dropped his weight into the rocking chair behind him, covering his face with his hands, pressing the heel of his palms against his eyes, silently cursing and praising himself. He did it. He resisted temptation beyond his wildest imaginations, and yet the room still smelled so strongly of Bella that he could hardly breathe.

Paul wondered if it was worse to remain as he was, aching and confined to his shorts, painfully hard and so uncomfortable he had to readjust himself every fucking second, or if he dared to pop his button open, unzipping just enough to free his erection of its denim prison. He wondered if he had enough strength to keep his hands off his dick once it was no longer confined.

In the end, Paul decided not to risk it. He knew himself far too much. It was hell to resist even as it was, and too many times already had he allowed his hands to linger as he readjusted himself, a dark whisper telling him that no one would ever know if he just jacked off in silence and cleaned the evidence.

So he sat there, coiled and stiff, barely daring to breathe, counting the minutes, testing his self-control, his resolve, waiting to see if he would cave and, at the same time, knowing deep inside in his core that he would never betray his mate in that way.

It was almost enough for him to wish for a vampire attack.

Almost.

* * *

In the morning, Bella insisted on having breakfast outside, claiming that they had to enjoy the rare good weather while it lasted. Seeing as Paul had yet to learn how to say no to her, there they were, sitting down on the still damp grass, nursing a bowl of cereal each.

It was peaceful, and it helped to get Paul's mind out of the gutter for a few minutes.

Bella wrapped her arm around her bent legs, balancing her bowl on her knees. "Tell me about yourself," she asked, meeting his eyes. It sounded like a challenge. "I mean, we are always talking about me. About my problems and everything, so tell me about you."

Paul shrugged. "I'm just not that interesting, to be honest."

"I don't believe that." Bella shook her head. "Tell me about the fighting."

Ah, there it was. She resisted for a whole lot longer than he thought she would — it was usually one of the first things people asked about him. "Yeah, I've always wondered when you were going to ask about that," he admitted wryly.

The self-depreciate irony slid right over Bella's head. "Well, I'm asking now," she said, with a touch of stubbornness. "I've gathered that it's an important part of your life, on several levels. You are a teacher, so obviously you work with something related to fighting, but for you, that's actually quite mild, isn't it? You can't exactly beat your students to a pulp now, can you?"

Her line of questioning went the opposite way of what he thought it would. "I don't know about that. I've certainly got some students who literally beg me to beat the crap out of them," he admitted, not even lying about it. It took a lot of restraint on his part to resist, too.

"That's cuz they don't know the amount of damage you could do," Bella said, going for a reasonable tone, only she had no clue on how fighters worked sometimes.

"Probably," Paul concedes, keeping his own suspicions to himself.

"So, yeah, you—you're a teacher, that's what you work with, you're a shifter, a werewolf, so fighting against vampires it's kind of also your job. When you're not in the ring, you're here in the woods hunting predators, fighting to stay alive." She pointed a finger in his direction. "And then there's the cage fighting — which, don't think I've forgotten about it. I'm still waiting for the day you're going to take me."

"I haven't forgotten it either, to be honest. I just haven't gotten around to going lately — a lot has happened Bella. Believe it or not, we used to be a pretty tranquil pack, not much to do at all other than the occasional vampire who crosses our borders."

She tilted her head to the side, looking like she was fighting off a blush. "Should I apologize?"

"Only if you're going to do so to someone who isn't an adrenaline junkie."

"You are a dangerous companion for me, mister."

So said the temptress demon. "I sure hope so."

"Don't try to distract me — I see what you're doing." She ate a spoonful. "So, anyway, cage fighting. That's a whole nother ball than being a teacher, or being a werewolf. You don't have structure, help, and for what I've researched in my frankly abysmal computer, it's kind of a free-for-all. Come, beat the shit out of whoever has the guts to go against you, grab the money, and go. It's adrenaline and illegal money."

"I don't give a crap about the money. I mean, not to be a hypocrite, I still take the money, and I still use it, but I don't do it for the money. I do it because I can, I do it because the adrenaline is far too much of a rush to pass on," he explained with a small wince. "It's a little disappointing at times, whenever I'm actually in a mood, and I need to release stress. I can't exactly let go — I'd kill them."

"Which leads me to my next question, which is the part I'm most curious about... Jared," Bella said, pointing her spoon at him. "Your brother. Your packmate, your best friend, the person I hear you talk about the most. You beat the crap out of him constantly, and he does the same for you. Tell me about that."

How was he supposed to explain their relationship without freaking her out?

"It's different with us," Paul started, cautious. "I'm not even really sure how to explain it. The boys from the pack are inside my head, and they don't get it — they understand it, and they can respect it to a point, but it's not the same. I could give up on my job, I could stop cage fighting, and if it came down to it, and there was a way, I could leave the pack. I don't think I could with Jared. That's how it's always been."

She considered his words for a long time. "He doesn't strike me as a particularly violent person."

Paul nodded, understanding where she was coming from. He got that a lot when the subject was Jared. "Appearances can be misleading. Jared isn't me, I'll give you that, but he's far more violent than one would think, just having a casual conversation with him. Most of the times, I'm the one who comes to him, yeah, but it's not unprecedented for him to come to me. It's what we do. We don't even need words anymore. I can tell you exactly how he's feeling at the moment just by the way he's fighting."

"Don't you need to have a bit of anger towards someone to fight against them? Doesn't this... I don't know, taint your relationship somehow?"

"I suppose it should," Paul conceded, dropping his empty bowl next to his legs, already dreaming of eating some fucking bacon when he got home. "And in any normal case, it probably would do irreparable damage. We've always been different, though. When Jared met me, I was already an angry child — always far too furious, and more willing to resolve matters with my fist than with words." He paused. "I didn't have a lot of friends at school. In fact, I had none. I was the student no teacher liked."

Bella frowned. "Was it because of your parents?"

Paul unclenched his jaw. Talking about his parents never failed to get a reaction from him.

"Yeah. Yeah, mostly," he admitted, looking away from her. He didn't want to see her reaction. "I mean there's a lot of kids who lived the exact same situation I did and turned out okay, I guess. I don't know how much of it it's my personality, and how much of it was shaped by the things I've lived through. But yeah, by the time I met Jared, I was already past the line of possible redemption. And somehow, miraculously, he understood." Jared always understood his shit. There was no easy way to explain that. "He got me. Easy as that."

"But tell me about it," Bella pleaded, and she didn't sound revolted, at least. "I mean, Ana couldn't have been happy about you beating up her child."

"She wasn't. Ana is a saint, though. She hates it — she still does. But better than anyone else, she respects our decisions, and she never expects us to change. It's how we are, what we do."

Bella's hand landed on his thigh. "What do you like about it?"

"Everything," he explained, meeting her eyes once more. He knew there was a spark there — even if talking about it with her was harder than he thought it would be. "I'm a hot-headed guy — I've never claimed any differently. If I'm confused, or angry, or scared, or sad, my first reaction is to feel that intense need for violence. The adrenaline, the rush. It's freeing in a way that nothing else is for me."

"But why is it different with Jared?" She pressed, her chocolate eyes so bright in the sunlight that Paul could drown on them. "I mean, doesn't this reaction, this adrenaline, happens with anyone?"

"Again: yes and no," he sighed. "Yes, I feel the adrenaline and rush fighting with anyone, which is why I actually do the things we've talked about before. I've been fighting with Jarred my whole life, though, so it's different. Obviously, it's even more different now, because he's one of the few people who match me when it comes to strength. But it was already different before. I don't know what to tell you."

He struggled for words, but Bella quietly waited for him to sort his mess out, never saying a word.

"He indulges me," Paul finally confessed, his voice coming out softer than he intended. And it felt like a secret being shared, a piece of his soul lying on the grass around them. "He knows exactly what I'm looking for, and he likes it. When we're beating the crap out of each other, the only feeling we have is this euphoric rush."

He squeezed her hand, which is still resting on his thigh. "It feels good," he breathed out. " _Amazing._ "

And he meant more than just the fighting.

* * *

Paul was a gentleman. Which was why, when they arrived at the school, he walked Bella all the way to the front door, holding her backpack and trying to mentally convince himself that he was above such things as distracting his mate to steal another couple of minutes with her. Bella had classes to attend to — it would be irresponsible to give her an incentive to skip, no matter how alluring the prospect was.

He had just decided to say goodbye, when a girl saw them and all but marched toward them, her footsteps echoing quite loud for a skinny person such as her. Paul's eyes slid up, and he had to bite back a wince. Whoever that was, the bond did _not_ like. Her face was a gray blur, and she smelled so repulsive, Paul almost shielded Bella's body with his to protect her from getting close to it.

"Jess, are you—," Bella began, clearly confused, but the girl was not there for her.

She turned to Paul, the contempt rolling off her in waves. "You! How dare you show your face here!"

What? Shit. Was she one of the girls Paul had promised to call back? "I…" He tried, but the words died out on his tongue.

He had no clue who she was.

"You don't even know who I am?" She yelled, her hands on her waist.

"You two know each other?" Bella asked, tilting her head in consideration.

"Yeah, I know this idiot alright," the girl — Jess? — said. "Did your mother not teach you not to hit other people?"

 _Wow_.

"Hold on. I've never hit a chick in my life," Paul swore, crossing his arms over his chest. "What the hell does that mean?"

She leaned forward. "I kissed you, and you pushed me off so hard I fell down, you asshole. What do you call that, hun? A fucking hug?"

Oh.

 _Oh._

Jessica. That was her name.

"Kissed him?" Bella asked, frowning, her eyes scanning Jessica, as though she was looking for lies.

Paul held back a wince. Yeah, he was an asshole to that girl. He probably deserved a proper dressing-down for leaving her like that on the dance floor. "Ah, I…," Paul mumbled, uncrossing his arms. "I didn't mean to— I hope you—"

"Ugh, is this the best apology you can give? I was humiliated! I'll never be able to go back there." She waved her hands, her voice rising and rising. "Everybody saw my underwear!"

Paul ran a hand through his hair. God, what will Bella think about this? How can he even explain what he was doing in a bar, dancing and kissing another girl? He kept fucking things over with her.

He was so uncomfortable. His jaw clenched, and he all but grit the words out. "I had a… stomach bug? Not my finest moment, I'll admit."

She stopped, took a deep breath. "A stomach bug?" she hissed, her hands curled into fists. Maybe she was about to try to hit Paul — it definitely seemed like a possibility. "You know what? I don't need this. Stay the hell away from me, you freak." And with that, she stomped her feet and walked away, leaving behind nothing but a stench of rotten fish and a deep sense of embarrassment.

Paul forced himself to turn to face Bella, bracing for the disgust he was sure to find waiting for him, hoping to come up with a better explanation in the meanwhile. "So…," he began, only to stop when he saw Bella trying to hide the tiniest smile behind her hand. "Are you laughing?"

"I don't know, Paul," Bella said, biting on her bottom lip to hold back the smile. "Did you really flash her panties to the whole club?"

"Maybe," Paul winced, scratching the back of his neck. "I didn't stay there to see."

"What happened?"

"She kissed me… Let's just say the bond was less than happy with that."

She hummed. "Sure. Of course."

Paul turned away. "I may have pushed her away harder than I should have." A pause. "And maybe I left without helping her to get up. Maybe."

Bella finally smiled full force, looking beyond amused at his struggle. She reached for her backpack, and he handed it over wordlessly. "You are an idiot," she said, still far too happy with herself. "I want the full story later, you hear me? Don't think for one second that you'll get away with this explanation."

"Sure," Paul agreed readily, suspicious at the lack of anger. If all she wanted were a full disclosure, Paul would consider himself lucky, nevermind the embarrassment.

"Great," Bella said, jumping to kiss his cheek before turning to head inside. She waved a little with a wicked smile. "See you later, Man Hands."

Paul sighed.

Awesome. Just what he needed.

Man Hands.


End file.
